Back in the little cafe under Koyabez’s name, Erick sat down across from Rozeta.
The Goddess of the Script had been waiting for him the second he crossed into line of sight, but she had not been there before that. She looked as put-together as ever, in her white-wrought human body, with her white pantsuit and hair up in a bun. She looked ready to receive known news, for she was probably looking at him the entire time that he was up there in that mausoleum to the Old Cosmology.
Erick had a few important concerns to get through before he agreed to her plan.
Sitting across from her, Erick asked, “Am I the first to make it to this point?”
“No, but also yes.” Rozeta said, “There have been two Wizards to get here before you. The first was about 50 years after the Sundering, when the first generations of new mortals were learning about the Sundering from their grandparents. We had entered a small period of calm. To make history wildly inaccurate, but also short, this Wizard was of that new generation. They were not trustworthy, but I have worked with such people before, and I will continue to do so in the future, for the stability of the Script, and for the good of us all. I gave this person assistance in becoming a Wizard, and then Phagar and I had to send paladins and Death Priests after them after they started mucking about with Time, under Melemizargo’s guidance. That person was just one of the many reasons that those early years are lost to us.
“I did not trust so easily after that.
“The second person was a human Wizard I identified when she was four years old. Everything about her told me that she would be a monumental force for good. Good family. Good upbringing. Good future prospects. As the years went on, she blossomed into a young woman of good social skills and standing, who did her best to foster good in all parts of her life. She married and had a family, and she raised good kids, all while steadily learning magic, to figure out ways to better find and eliminate mental monster threats. She was a Mind Mage.” Rozeta said, “She was supposed to be a force for true good, and she was, until her Worldly Path finally brought her down here, to me. She managed to get in with the password, given to her by priests in Stratagold for she already had good connections there through their embassy, and she was a true believer.
“And then I told her that she was a Wizard. The embodiment of the thing she hated most, for she had been raised on stories and historical accounts of the horrors of the Old Wizards. This news broke her, and so she spent a year in this land, coming to grips and reading the truth about Wizardry. This power is not just a tool to destroy, but instead, it is a tool of Pure Magic. Of Creation, just as much as any other option.
“She came around to the idea of becoming her own end to her Worldly Path. She saw the future stretch out before her, and she knew that she could continue to be a force for good. She, like you, did not want to be separate from the Script, though.
“I helped her become a Paradox Wizard.
“I sent her on her way, but it wasn’t long til the power went to her head, and it took a lot less time than it should have. But, in retrospect, the signs of her true self were always there. How she relished money over the relationships between business partners. How she was rude to people who couldn’t offer her anything. Shunning responsibility. Controlling. All very minor incidents that certainly wouldn’t mark someone as ‘evil’, even in aggregate.
“But as a Wizard, she had real power.
“The first morals to go were the morals that kept her from reaching for more power, like most Mind Mages. Her ascension to ‘archmage’ took months. From there, she began experimenting on condemned people, moving on to cultists and hunters and the exiled. Her morals further wore away, and she participated in wars based on ideology. She sought to do good, but in her zeal, she lost sight of the small things; she lost sight of limits she should not cross. In a year everything about her had changed. The final step came when Melemizargo tempted her to forgo war and to just Paradox herself into the winner’s seat of her conquest.
“All of her actions up to that point were forgivable, but when she ‘won’ her war, she did it by Paradoxing millions of lives away, and also taking for herself the mana generation of everyone she killed, making that mana generation her own. Even in the Old Cosmology this was taboo, but she did it anyway. We tried talking, but she refused to repent, to undo what she had done, and so we did the only thing we could.
“We gods fought a Wizard, and we gods won, though it eventually required a Forgotten Campaign to End her.” Rozeta paused. She said, “We don’t expect that from you for multiple reasons. So, in this way, you are not the first to get to this point, but you are the first that we expect to actually go the distance.”
Erick took it all in, and decided that, while it was a story of death and loss, it was nothing too unexpected—
Ah? Wait?
Erick connected a few dots, and asked, “Is that Fallopolis’s mother you’re talking about?”
“Yes,” Rozeta said, without reservation. “If you feel like telling that Shade what she has sought to learn all this time, go ahead. I wouldn’t trust her, though, even if you did bless both of you with a minor blessing of truth.”
Erick nodded. He moved on, “Earlier, you said that everyone shares mana under the Script. This allows normal people to have the abilities of mages, to cast thousands of spells per day, or exceedingly large magics with high mana costs.” Erick continued, “But you also said that people can’t share mana until they work to make such a thing possible.”
Rozeta smirked a little, and said, “It’s a Paradox, isn’t it.” She lost her smirk, and explained, “Manaminers were originally made by Wizards, but they’re machines of a million moving parts. What you did with [Renew] was to refine what other Wizards had made long before you came along. It’s a mirror for what my father does sometimes, like with these New Stats. I don’t like those, by the way; Makes everything a lot more complicated than it has to be— We could talk for hours about that, too, but for now:
“So you know: [Renew] looks to be unexpectedly great. I’ve already set up some experimental [Renew] protocols on an Experimental Script, which, if implemented on the wider Script, would eliminate ten-thousand spell creation errors per hour, or, introduce catastrophic vulnerabilities through bouncy-mana primary system attacks.” Rozeta didn’t seem worried about what she was saying, but Erick felt a spike of guilt and it showed. “Don’t worry about it, Erick. With [Renew], you might solve twice as many problems as you’ve created with Particle Magic. I’ll likely have to change some parts of it though, before it makes it to the Open Script.”
Erick did feel better about that. And then he focused on his questions, “So? Then… Are you a Wizard, too?”
“All dragons are minor wizards and I am no different.”
“Okay… What’s the difference, there? Just a matter of self-mana production?”
“Yes… But also no. Mostly ‘yes’. I will focus on the ‘yes’, right now.” Rozeta said, “Here are some numbers: our baseline for mana production is an average female human of no particular lineage or upbringing, age 25 level 15. Over the course of a year, on average, a person will produce 10 mana per day. This is actually ten times higher than it used to be back in the Old Cosmology, and this is entirely due to the Script encouraging people to experiment with magic and increase their familiarity with mana, to decrease their fear and also to increase their capability. Gaining levels also increases mana production, but this is a much smaller increase than actually learning how to make magic oneself.
“Wizards are outliers who produce 5000 to 10,000 mana per day. For comparison, you produce about 100,000-200,000 mana per day.
“Dragons produce 500 mana per day. Fifty times the average, but not too noticeable.
“We can also innately create cores and remain in control, unlike most monsters… Unless we go too far. But that is another discussion entirely, and is completely related to Dragon Essence, so you shouldn’t have to worry about that. I don’t have to worry about that, either, so, yes, I can do some Wizardry by using the mana I produce, but that power pales in comparison to the powers of a god.” Rozeta said, “We’ll leave that conversation there, and move on to your next question.”
Erick nodded, then he asked, “So. Here’s a complicated question about [Renew]. What happens when a person who is a monster uses it on themselves? Or on a rad? Is this a worry I should have? Once I have a core, myself, or if other monsters gain access to this spell?”
“Not a large worry; no.” Rozeta said, “To begin with: Aside from your own predicament, someone using [Renew] on a monster’s rad is much more likely to happen than a monster ever getting [Renew], for the spell will be in the Open Script, and not the Monster Script, and no one will ever be able to Remake this spellwork.
“Even if the spell doesn’t produce unknown security problems, no one is ever Remaking [Renew], just so that I never have to deal with a strangely-made [Renew] that does cause security problems.
“Anyway. Using [Renew], and with Clarity for half costs, two points of Experience are gained for every individual mana channeled, which is in line with current cycling techniques. If someone Favorites [Renew], then they gain 4 Experience per mana spent. For a person with Scion of Focus, and remaining mostly baseline, means that, with all bonuses, and running all day, their 144,000 mana becomes about 570,000 Experience.
“It would take a monstrous person a year to reach level 30, or 15,000 years to reach level 50.
“Shadelings can already reach level 50 through normal mana cycling, in which how they were made by Melemizargo allows them to cycle thousands of mana per second, all while remaining themselves… If they’re allowed to be. Not all shadelings are allowed to be themselves. The ones in Candlepoint are themselves, though my father does have a back door to turning them all back into fake people at any moment he chooses.”
Erick’s stomach dropped. “Oh holy shit.”
Rozeta waved him off. “Don’t worry too much about the smaller acts of power my father could wield, and chooses not to. He could already destroy this world several times over if he wanted.”
Erick breathed out, staring at the floor, his mind whirling.
Rozeta waited.
Eventually, Erick raised his head again. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Rozeta continued, “About [Renew]: All [Renew] will do for a monster that acquires it is allow said monster to not worry about killing other monsters to take those other rads, to restore their own rad.” Rozeta shrugged, seeming a bit happy. “Maybe I should give all the monsters [Renew], just to stop a lot of their natural reasons for aggression against each other. After all, I only have three main goals: Trying to maximize mana production, maintaining the security on the Script, and remaining neutral unless either of the first two goals are threatened.”
“Ah.” And that word meant so much. There seemed to be a lot of that happening right here. Erick moved on, asking, “What about if I use it on myself?”
Rozeta said, “You’re going to need to do this, because as soon as you gain a core of any type, you’re going to need to learn how to feed it to prevent catastrophic soul destruction. It would be best if you fed yourself, instead of eating other cores; that way could lead to insanity.”
Erick felt cold for a moment, and then he resigned himself. Resolute, he said, “This is a big change.”
“It will be; yes. So are you ready to begi—” Rozeta glanced to the right. She frowned.
Erick watched for a moment, then asked, "Another issue to take care of?”
She had gone off and come back several times already, so maybe she had to do something else?
But as one moment turned to two, this time seemed different, though. More worrying.
Rozeta’s frown deepened. She narrowed her suddenly angry eyes at an unseen, far distance, then she came back to the moment. “We should have had 4 days to get this done, but Fate does as Fate does, and my father still controls your Worldly Path. He shouldn’t know about what we’re discussing, but he probably figured out I would try to pull something like this. On the plus side, this event is good news about his sanity being real.” As Erick stared, uncomprehending, Rozeta looked him straight in the eyes, and said, “Melemizargo cleared the mana stream tunnels between the wrought from Stratagold and the guardian gate. The envoy from Stratagold will be here in hours, instead of days. I don’t have time to guide you to becoming a Wizard right now, so you have to choose: I erase these memories and none of this happens, or we change some plans.”
Dread.
First came bargaining. “You can’t delay them?”
“No. My father moved every single monster that was in front of them, to behind them.”
Erick steeled himself, asking, “What are the changes?”
“Archmages often create life. This life can slot into existing systems. All you have to do is make a people and assume its mantle as progenitor. In this way, you will become a monster, first, but with eligibility to gain personhood at my discretion. The minotaurs you rescued from Last Shadow’s Feast are already in the pipeline to become a people, though that would take several more years of good behavior.” Rozeta said, “This was to be the backup plan if you failed at proper Wizardry. It’s the slowest method, but it has very few complications.”
“… I feel like you’re skipping over about a hundred smaller steps.”
“This is correct.”
“… Please give me a few more steps, so I can at least see the staircase you want to push me down.”
Rozeta said, “Your designation as ‘Human-question-mark’ is already like a boulder at the top of a mountain; you’re going to need to pick a direction to roll, and hope you don’t go off course. I will help you fall correctly. In this way, we can lock your Wizardry to a new race that you, alone, are a part of. In this way, I will gain my ‘plug’ to pull if you look to be going evil.”
“… What sort of bad end would that be?”
“I would prefer to keep my threats unknown, Erick. I do apologize for how this looks, but my own track record should speak for me, too. I have never stopped you or anyone else from doing anything they wanted to do, as long as it didn’t endanger Veird itself.”
“… Okay. Okay. Sure… Okay.” Erick blinked several times as his mind went nearly blank, but neurons still fired in the background and ideas still floated to the surface. “Elementassi,” he said, quick as it came to him. “Practically huma—”
“Locked, thanks to what the Old Demons did to create incani.” Rozeta offered, “Minotaur are new, so you could be one of them? Centaur? Fae? Or at least your idea of fae. Doppelganger, perhaps? With innate [Polymorph]? I could make it so you could change faces and go incognito whenever you wished, like the dragons do. Or? How about a werewolf— Ah.” She deadpanned a joke, “WereWizard?”
Erick rapidly said, “This is a bit much. Could we have one of those timeouts?”
“My father compromises those too easily, otherwise this whole conversation would have been inside one of those.” Rozeta asked, “How about vampire? Without the vulnerabilities and propagating species-by-bite, obviously.”
“I don’t want to be a vampire.”
“Dryad? With Yggdrasil as your home-tree?” Rozeta said, “Though I can obviously change that to something less restrictive.”
“… Not that one, either.”
Rozeta boiled it down for him, “Literally any idea you have a connection to, I can make happen, and we can hide your Wizardry in that race, though you will have to be the one to make that whole race not go homicidal when they monsterize, which is what will happen almost instantly, when this is done. But know that what my father did for the shadelings, I can help you do for yourself.” Rozeta looked at him, saying, “But you need to make a choice. I cannot have my father be the one to create your Gate. I will not allow him that much power over the fate of everything.”
“Right. Right. Right.” Erick said, “But as a Wizard I have to deal with all the other dragons of the world, and the people of the world hating Wizards, and my soul being locked away inside a rad while the rest of me goes crazy, and the Script fucks me over instead of helps, and—”
“And about a hundred other problems, most of which you barely understand. But you will.” Rozeta said, “Paradox Wizardry would solve all of your physical problems. I urge you not to solve other-people problems with Wizardry.”
“… You’re sure you can’t order the incoming wrought to stay away for a few months?”
“I’ve known some of these people for 1300 years, Erick. If I told them to wait they would know something is happening and they would come here even faster and investigate you even harder, because despite how much power I have, I will not physically stop anyone from making the decisions they make. I will not harm people over ideology, or anything like that, and this includes you, and them.” Rozeta said, “You have about 54 minutes before they reach the cloudgate. They’re moving faster than I expected.”
Erick mentally ran through a thousand scenarios, sussing out the repercussions of the choices made here, and now. Mostly, he ran right into the first ultimatum Rozeta had given him.
He had two options. He could forget everything he learned here, or he could take the first step forward down an inevitable path with a civic-minded goddess guiding him. He had already been prepared to accept her offer, but now…
“Lightling,” Erick blurted, hoping for success.
Rozeta said, “Already exists. Everything you can think of that is attached to Veird has been done before.”
“… Ah.” Erick verbally thought through some ideas, “Medi… Uh. Mendicant. No. Ascetic— Very no. Uh. Astral— Etheric Human?”
“Less of a chance of working properly than you might think.” Rozeta said, “Variant humans are already accounted for in the monstrous Script, since that is what usually happens when a person turns into a monster. Becoming an actual new species would be best.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
Rozeta lost all mirth. “I apologize. This is difficult for you and I see that, but...” She added, “It would be better if you enjoyed this, too, for magic always works better that way. Or. You could look at it this way: Would you rather my father have a hand in this change? It’s a miracle of Wizardry that you didn’t become a shadeling when you took on the curse inside those New Stats.” Rozeta said, “Just so you know: That was your own Wizardry, already working to keep you safe when you should have died, or had something horrible happen to you.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay— Protean.” Erick spoke the word before his brain caught up to his mouth, but he didn’t take it back. It felt right, almost. He added, “A human, but able to [Polymorph] like dragons do, or however that works.”
Rozeta gave a small, content smile. “We have the word ‘shapeshifter’ but not specifically ‘Protean’. You’re even rather Chaotic, too, so I can see where you got your inspiration. This works well.” Her eyes seemed to grow larger, without changing size at all, and Erick realized there would be no more delay. This was happening right now. Clouds drifted out from the corners of the room to suddenly flow around his feet. Rozeta spoke from on high, “You’re going to have to do the heavy lifting, but I’ll guide your change.”
The Goddess of the Script stared down at Erick, perspective shifting till he was an ant and she was a serpentine white dragon that filled a cloudy sky. In that moment, he felt their entire several hour conversation had not been nearly long enough, and yet, it could have been shortened considerably. Maybe ‘Hi. I’m a Wizard?’ And then she’d say, ‘Yes you are. Let’s make that work.’ And then this would happen.
It was rather infuriating, actually.
- - - -
Erick was mad.
Angry at circumstances and forced actions and what the world demanded of him so that he and his loved ones didn’t die to any of a thousand unknown threats, or several well-known threats. He was angry, and he always had been, though it rarely showed. He saw that part of himself in Jane, for sure; that same bone-deep frustration that forced him to do what needed to be done to ensure good outcomes. Jane was young, though, so her anger was rightfully directed into direct, physical action. Erick’s own anger had transformed long ago into helping people wherever he could, making him into the man he was before he came to Veird.
Coming to Veird had transformed him, calling that deep anger back from the depths of his soul, making him, in his darkest moments, want to eradicate all his enemies from the face of the world. To sweep them away with unbridled power, with light and lightning, with physical destruction and complete obliteration.
And yet, he still believed in the power of talk, and understanding. He had seen compassion work too many times as a social worker to discount the power of empathy. The power of helping others had helped him first, after all, when an agent of the state came to him a year after Jane fell into his lap.
With a crying baby in the crib, twelve dollars in the bank, and a gun in his right hand, Erick had considered robbing a bank, or their neighbors, or dealing drugs. The drug option was the best one, but robbing a convenience store a few states away was faster, and rent was due soon. He had a baby now, and he needed money. He had fallen in with a bad crowd in college, but after Jane he had gotten away from most of that, but now he knew where the money was, and that’s all that mattered. Giving up Jane was never an option; he was going to make this work, even if he had to kill someone to do it.
It was the darkest part of his life.
And yet, in that dark, a social worker had rescued him and Jane with job placements and daycare assistance and too many small acts of mercy to recount. He didn’t have to sell drugs. He didn’t have to rob anyone. He didn’t need to kill. All he had needed was a helping hand to cross a canyon, to get to the other side where stability awaited.
Erick had remained mad at the world, though.
At the rich and the powerful, at the toil of his own life, and at what others had to do to survive. At what he almost had to do. But once he had turned the corner, that anger had transformed into growth, and that growth made all the difference in the lives of so many people; and none more than his own. If that social worker hadn't helped him… If he had gone to the gangs… He would have been a very different man, today.
If that other man had fallen to Veird with Jane at his side those first days and everything else would have been different. That other man certainly wouldn’t have ever qualified for a Silver Star from Koyabez. Erick hadn’t killed anyone back on Earth, but he was no stranger to blood on his fists.
He probably would have accepted Phagar’s offer a lot more readily.
Kill everyone who slighted him? Murder those fucks who stuck a knife in his back in that alleyway, who then assaulted the sewerhouse trying to kill him and his daughter? Go hunting with his daughter in the Crystal Forest, looking for Levels, and power? Yeah. He would have done that. It would have seemed like the only way to ensure his and Jane’s survival.
But someone had helped him long ago, and changed everything.
Rozeta’s voice called out from the depths of the clouds, “Growth and change. Anger and empathy. Not two sides of the same coin, but instead, a river that shifts on a boulder, finding a new track through the desert. You would have been a different person except for that helping hand given in honest aid, and this different person would have come into his Wizardry on his own long before now.
“This is a new turning point. This is a new helping hand.” Rozeta reached down from the heavens, inviting him forward. “Take my hand, Erick.”
Erick and Rozeta spoke together, “Become the monster, and the man.”
Erick reached forward...
- - - -
Erick stood upon a mirror that stretched out to every horizon. Clouds held in the far distance while a nebulous light glowed all around.
He looked down.
Another Erick looked up. He was the same, and yet different. Same roughness to his face. Same white eyes. But he smirked, while Original Erick did not. He had blood on his hands, and on the hems of his pants and sleeves, while Erick was clean. Erick was just a man, but the other man was the Wizard.
The Wizard leaned down, reaching to the glass floor, toward Erick. With a gentle ripple his hand came out of the ground.
Erick grabbed the Wizard’s hand and helped him out of the ground with a yank, disturbing the mirrored land with a single ripple. Erick set the man down again, causing the Wizard to give a rather undignified yelp, grabbing and cradling his own hand, smiling all the while even though he was obviously in a bit of pain.
“Strong grip there, buddy!”
“Ach. Uh.” Erick said, “I didn’t think you’d be—”
“Nah! It’s fine.” The Wizard shook his hand out, then flexed it a few times as he said, “So you got to keep all the Stats, eh? I’ve glanced through four thousand universes and the only ones that kept their Stats were the ones brainwashed by dragons or the god-touched, and you ain’t neither of them.” With an infectious grin, the Wizard asked, “How the fuck you manage that?”
“Rozeta is helping me to link to you.” Erick said, “The cat is about to escape the bag about my Wizardry.”
The Wizard briefly looked distraught, but then he hummed, saying, “I guess you’re perfect, then.” He frowned a bit more. “But of course you’re the perfect one. That makes me the fake; the lost timeline.”
“Ah. One of those Paradox things, eh?”
The Wizard shrugged, giving a smile. “Yup! This was always the danger of attempting this sort of Wizardry, but I was out of options. They’re beating down the doors right now and I’m practically out of mana. Paladins of Rozeta, actually. Didn’t like me mucking about with bringing... Actually. I probably shouldn’t say. I can already tell how this is going to go. I’ll fail to exist if I leave this space.” The Wizard laughed. “Ah! That whore. I guess she got me in the end! Didn’t even see it coming.”
Erick felt a twist on his insides, like heartburn, but he hadn’t experienced that sensation in nearly a year, so it was obviously a lot more important than that. Mana sense failed him, though; this space was ephemeral, and probably wouldn’t last past this single conversation.
Erick asked, “How was Veird on your Path?”
“Utter shitshow!” The Wizard said, “You probably won’t get any of my memories… Or maybe you will? Rozeta’s a decent sort as long as you don’t go upsetting the applecart.” He winked. “But that’s exactly what I did. All I wanted was to—” He clutched his chest. “Ah. Shouldn’t say that either, eh?” He looked up at the clouds and shouted at the sky, “Fuck you! This is my death and I’m gonna give it some meaning.” He looked back to Erick. “You could tell me how your time went, though. Probably no restrictions there. I’d like to know what version of myself I’ve been saddled with.”
Erick said, “Invented Particle Magic—”
A nod. “Normal.”
“—Killed many Shades—”
A smirk. “Didn’t manage that.”
“—Ar’Kendrithyst is empty of Shades, actually. They’re calling it ‘Last Shadow’s Feast’—”
The Wizard frowned, saying, “Hold on.”
“—Invented a spell that [Renew]s spellwork—”
The Wizard laughed. “OH yeah. You’re a Wizard.”
“—And I’m practically at the end of the Worldly Path.”
The Wizard cackled, throwing his head back and laughing at the world. And then he looked to Erick. “I’m good with this. So? What’s the plan? Do you know how Wizardry works?” He answered his own question, “Short rundown: Wizardry is informing the universe that your dick is the biggest, therefore you make the rules.”
Erick chuckled. “Rozeta didn’t explain quite in that way.”
“Course she didn’t! Firstly: Every Wizard is different. Secondly: I don’t got time to go into all the other shit.” The Wizard said, “You’ll figure it all out.” The Wizard’s joy faded into the background. His face fell. “Say… Did Jane— Uh—” He wiped his difficult emotions away, and spoke with hope in his voice, “What’s up with Jane these days?”
Erick felt a stab in his chest. He grabbed his right side. Pain blossomed beside his heart.
At the same time the Wizard mirrored Erick’s grab, touching his own left side of his chest, grasping the space over his heart.
Wounds appeared under both of their hands, flowing red through both of their fingers as blood soaked through their tunics.
Erick breathed, then looked the Wizard in the eyes. They shared the same white eyes with black pupils, though Erick only now noticed that the Wizard still looked 49, with grey in his hair and in his day-old beard. But Erick, himself, had gained a Blessing from Rozeta nearly a year ago. Erick looked something like 30. Looking in mirrors still freaked him out a bit when a stranger’s face stared back at him.
He hadn’t even noticed till now that the Wizard was truly his old self, but flipped. A true mirror version. Like how he used to be, and was no longer.
The Wizard tilted his head a bit as he stared at Erick, gaining his own sight to see the strangeness likely standing before him. He said, “At least I’ll be hot again. Say. Are—” He stopped.
Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, but in opposite directions, Erick and the Wizard both glanced down at the actual mirror in the room.
All that was down there was Darkness.
“Ah,” the Wizard said.
“Ah,” Erick said.
They looked at each other.
“What about Jane?” The Wizard asked.
Erick said, “Jane is fine as of a few days ago. She’s in Spur dealing with something, though they won’t tell me what.”
The Wizard breathed out, his mouth opening into a wide smile. “Ahhhh.” Tears flowed. “Okay. This is good. I’m happy with this. Even if I won’t be seeing her again… I will.”
Erick asked, “I’ll love her enough for the both of us.”
“I know you will, ‘cause that’s what I’d do if I were the real one.”
“Does this happen often?” Erick asked, “Meeting other selves?”
“In the shallow Paradox? No. Never.” The Wizard said, “But I’ve burned everything to make this work, to drag both of us into this meeting; we’re in the Deep Paradox, Erick. Truly deep, where you never know if you’re in control or not, and, it turns out, I lost the dice roll. You can’t tell, but my heart and my core burst when I came in here. I was real to me, but you’re the Truth in this place.”
Erick’s heart thumped in pain as cold waves of unsettling emotions spread out from his chest. He looked at the Wizard with understanding that likely fell far short of truth. Erick said, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”
The Wizard smiled. His teeth were red; a match for the blood on his hands, and on his hems. Blood dripped as his tears turned crimson. “I know you are.”
Erick stood strong. He nodded.
The Wizard responded in kind, though he was dying with every passing moment.
Resolute, the Wizard and the not-yet Wizard took a step toward the other, each holding out a bloody right hand. They met in the middle, red mixing with red as they spoke in unison,
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“I’m ready.”
- - - -
Erick woke to pain, his mana sense and [Greater Lightwalk] flickering on almost instinctively.
He almost passed right back out from weakness, but he held onto consciousness like a man on the edge of a cliff.
A few things stuck out immediately. The bedroom all around him was made of white stone and the bed looked familiar, while a rainbow crystal window above the actual window told him that he was inside the king’s castle, somewhere. Outside the window, Yggdrasil stood like a green and rainbow mountain sitting on a convex ocean that curled up. Beyond Yggdrasil lay the rest of the Outer Core.
Rozeta was in the room with Erick, standing to the side of his bed like a nurse, a queen, and a goddess all rolled into one, which she was.
Ophiels chirped on various perches around the room.
But the most concerning thing was the jagged pearl of a core sitting in his chest, next to his heart, where his heart would have been if it had been mirrored onto his right side. His lungs had been altered to fit the new thing inside of him. Right now, it was the size of a thumbnail and faceted like a broken, minor rad worth only 3 gold at the Mage’s Guild, but scar tissue surrounded it, and ethereal vein-like structures led outward, mirroring Erick’s own vasculature like a shadow of the real thing. The fake veins weren’t even real, except they were, somehow.
As for his soul...
His soul was completely trapped inside of a tiny, new core. His body was soul-dead, like a shadeling’s, or a monster’s, or anything else with a rad—
Rozeta said, “Calm down, Erick. It’s a temporary thing. I wanted to speak to you before I allowed your messages to start rolling in, to let you know that many of them are automated and that you shouldn’t be too concerned. The procedure was a complete success.”
Blue boxes began to roll across his vision.
You are suffering from the beginning stages of monsterfication.
Seek help soon, or lose yourself to the mana.
You are entering the end stages of monsterfication.
You are about to lose yourself to the mana.
You have lost yourself to the mana.
Reinitializing.
Unknown Entity detected!
We see you!
Initializing mana integration…
ERROR.
Unknown species detected.
Higher priority requested.
Higher priority obtained.
Reorienting scan…
You are an unknown monster.
Beginning New Monster registration.
Designation:
Welcome to Veird,
It appears you are derived from the
As a monster you likely will not be able to understand this notification, but if you can, then here are some words for you.
The Open Script is closed to you. All selected options you had in your previous life are gone. Personalized magic might be available to you based on your species. Or not.
Cultivate your mana to stave off insanity. Do this by focusing your mana inward and feeding on your own mana. This should be instinctual.
There is no need to attack other people to sustain your existence.
There is still hope to rid yourself of this affliction.
You are issued a Quest.
Good luck.
Special Quest!
Return to
Error!
Quest deleted. Insufficient authorization.
His Status appeared, dominating his view, and it looked nothing like how it should have. Erick’s stomach dropped. Jane had shown off her Familiar Form boxes often enough for him to recognize the same shape to this new blue box. It was almost like his own Light Slime box, but different.
Protean
Body:
Greater Lightwalk
Lodestar
Luminous Beam
Perfected Polymorph
Perfected Body
All:
Paradox Shift
He willed his desire to see his normal Status, and like a sluggish flow, it gradually materialized.
Ah.
So that was why he felt like shit.
Erick Flatt
Protean, age 0
Level 0, Class: Particle Mage
Exp: 0/100
Class: 10/10
Points: 0
HP
100/100
300 per day
MP
11/200
300 per day
Strength
10
+0
[10]
Vitality
10
+0
[10]
Dexterity
10
+0
[10]
Constitution
10
+0
[10]
Perception
10
+0
[10]
Willpower
20
+0
[20]
Focus
20
+0
[20]
Intelligence
10
+0
[10]
As he read his new predicament he bottomed out at 0 mana, and felt even worse.
Rozeta pulled Erick out of his thoughts. “Try [Paradox Shift].”
Her words vibrated with power, and Erick felt himself activate his ability without even trying.
The world shifted.
Things made more sense.
The rad in his chest vanished and he was himself, as he had been hours ago. He was much, much stronger, with Strength in the 80’s and the Vitality to match and full mana and—
Rozeta started, “This is perhaps the perfect outcome for starting slow. Some bonuses I managed to sneak into there that would otherwise not exist include Perfected Body, the ‘Greater’ to your [Lightwalk], [Luminous Beam], [Lodestar], as well as the previously discussed [Perfected Polymorph]. For that last one, all you need to do is think of a person you want to be, or perhaps choose someone you’re familiar with. In your case, DNA should be enough to trigger that ability, though your Perfected Body will be doing a great deal of lifting in that case and you might not get the perfect result. Experiment some, and you should be fine.
“You’re starting from scratch as a ‘monster’, or rather, in the generalized path of a shadeling, or a cannibal that comes back to themselves, though in all of those cases such a thing is a very rare occurrence.
“You’ll have noticed a fair bit of problems, though. All of the ones we previously discussed are present, including a few more. Stat Rings don’t work for monsters. You’ve lost all of the extra points you gained from all sources of extra points, from spell creation to Quest completion, but you still have all of the same spells you had before so it’s not that rough of a change. All your multiplier abilities are gone, though; you’ll have to reacquire those. Your soul is inside your core and thus most guards will be able to pick you out of a crowd which is especially true for someone like your woman, Teressa. You can’t level from the expenditure of mana; only from cycling or killing things. As with all things, figuring out how to work your magic properly will stop these problems.
“You’ll have to cycle mana and [Renew] yourself in this form every day or else you might experience problems. Don’t let that happen.
“Etcetera.
“This is all a temporary fix to acclimate you to being a Wizard. When that happens you’ll be able to be both of yourselves at the same time, choosing the best of both sides, and cutting away the rest. You’ll likely be able to manage small things before that large shift, though. Try working to make your Stat rings work in both forms, or to make yourself not require core-upkeep. Prune your problems and learn what it means to be a Paradox Wizard, first hand, before you grow too much and are permanently removed from the Script. That should be a while away, though.” Rozeta said, “I have high hopes for you, Erick.”
As Rozeta spoke, Erick shifted back to his other form briefly, felt absolutely gutted all over again, and then Shifted back. And then he Shifted again, and started noting the problems that Rozeta noted. Every boosting ability from Strong to Scion of Focus was gone, but all of his spells seemed there in both forms, though he had no resources to cast the vast majority of them as this Other Self.
Blessing of Rozeta was still present. So that was nice.
When she spoke of cycling, Erick tried that, doing exactly the same as the shadelings he spoke to had done; he took his mana, which was already somehow in his core, and he pushed it around. For such a simple act it felt wonderful. Like breaking up a clogged drain. The facets of his tiny core began to shift and expand as he cycled his pitiful 5 mana around and around. By the time Rozeta was nearly finished speaking, Erick had gained one level due to experience gained from cycling. He stopped there and Shifted back to huma—
Ah. Still ‘protean’ in his normal form. That was kinda a kick in the pants. No more ‘humanity’.
And there were other unexpected results of this change. As he looked at his hands and saw them without blemish and as perfect mirrors of each other, it was apparent that Perfected Body carried over into both forms, as well. He’d be finding side effects of this… Event, for months, perhaps. But on yet another plus side: Maybe he should look into getting that [Bloody Personal Ward] like Jane was talking, since Perfected Body made him basically immune to most of the long-term problems of Blood Magic.
Gods, he hoped Jane was okay.
And that reminded him—
“I saw someone in the vision.” Erick said, “Another me. And Melemizargo was down there, too.”
Rozeta’s smile vanished. After a moment, she said, “Don’t worry too much about that. You’re the real one.”
“… That’s what he said, too.”
“You’re going to be doing a lot of Script manipulation in the future so please try to keep it small and manageable until you grow enough to handle the deeper stuff.” Rozeta added, “You’re still at least three iterations from being able to wield your full power; going to a grand core, then fortifying yourself until you’re completely a mana crystal, and then becoming a fully fledged Wizard that—” She glanced to the side, then she turned back to Erick. “Don’t let anyone know you’re a Wizard.” She stepped away, turning into gold fire halfway through her movement, her voice becoming a whisper, “I cleaned the manasphere to remove our conversations, but they’ll find out you have [Duplicate] if they look, and they will. Good luck. Please don’t kill them. I already asked them to give you the same courtesy.”
Erick went still for a moment as he took stock of his situation.
Then he breathed, got off the bed, and blipped over to Yggdrasil’s upper branches.
- - - -
A world of rainbows, white light, and fiery green leaves greeted him.
“Welcome back, Father,” Yggdrasil said.
Erick leaned down and patted Yggdrasil's white bark, saying, “Hello again, Yggdrasil. I hope I wasn’t gone too long.”
“You look different.”
Erick looked at himself with his mana sense. He was different, of that there was no doubt. Cleaner lines, all blemishes erased. He was already pretty good-looking, especially with all the other little bonuses that physical Stats did to a body, but this latest change had thrown him into Hollywood star categories. Perfected Body was pretty great.
If it wasn’t for the attached Wizardry and the required body horror where his soul was completely trapped inside a rad in his other chest, and with the secondary circulatory system, then he’d probably be happier about this.
Erick sent, ‘I feel different, too, but I’m still myself.’
‘Yes. I have other bodies.’ Yggdrasil asked, ‘I tell no one about Wizards?’
Erick felt his heart drop and soar in equal measure, sad of the words he had to tell Yggdrasil, but also happy that Yggdrasil understood already. ‘I’m sorry to ask you to lie to people, either through direct lying or through omission. You should be allowed to enjoy your life more, and lies make it so much more difficult than it has to be.’
‘Why difficult?’
‘Because lies will always be found out, breaking trust in their passing, and once trust is broken it’s very hard to get back.’ Erick cast a [Cascade Imaging] into the air above them, searching for people as he sent, ‘Trust is what makes much of society function, Yggdrasil.’
‘Trust is important?’
‘Yes. I trust you not to hurt me, and I hope you trust me not to hurt you. In this way, we can work and live and grow together.’ Erick watched his Imaging resolve piece by piece as he sent, ‘It’s like how I trust Jane and she trusts me. I can lower my defenses around her, and she does the same. I don’t have that same level of trust with people like whoever is coming here right now, so I’m going to keep all of my defenses up, and active. But I won’t attack them until they attack me. I hope that my trust in this small way is repaid with similar trust that they won’t attack either, or at least we’ll talk before that happens.’
‘I understand.’
The map had populated enough. Three blue dots held at a distance about four or five thousand kilometers away; well out of visual sight and into the deeper blue parts of the sky where the inner surface of the Outer Core started to vanish behind so much air and clouds. They weren’t moving.
Probably because they could see Yggdrasil from this distance. In this unmoving, unchanging world, which these people probably knew every meter of, a very large tree in the ocean next to a very large city probably stood out like a pimple on prom night.
Erick spoke, “Looks like they’re hanging back… Did they not expect you, Yggdrasil? I would have expected you if I were them. If they decide to attack I want you to defend; not attack. Understood?”
“Okay, Father.”
Ophiel hopped around in the light, mimicking Yggdrasil's response with his own chirp chirp.
“And don’t try to restrain them with your [Lodestar]. They probably have a Domain popper amongst them. They’d have to if they planned on coming through those tunnels.” Erick frowned a little as he shifted his sight between the blue dots on the map, and to an Ophiel hovering outside of Yggdrasil’s branches, with eyes on that particular curve of the Outer Core. “Hmm.”
Erick cast a [True Viewing Screen] on the location. He had targeted close enough. He saw.
The cloudgate in the center of the rocky land, looking perfectly normal. The wrought had walked through the thing with the password, after all, so this was expected.
Three wrought to the side of the cloudgate, atop rocky ground. They weren’t attacking, or gearing up to attack, because they were injured. Seriously injured.
One was a black human-shaped woman with a green sheen to her, missing an arm and a leg and bleeding drops of black metal from each severance. Erick instantly recognized her as Tasar the summoner, the archmage he had met back at Oceanside who had invented [Condense Oxygen], which was both a wrought-killing or saving spell, depending on how it was used. Probably didn’t work on any of the higher-order metals, though, like Tasar, with her adamantium, but she was mixed with something else to have that green sheen, so maybe it did? Who knew.
Tasar did not look good. She was sprawled on the ground, unconscious and slightly liquefying from any of a hundred small wounds, and all of her major ones, and yet she gripped a black staff in her remaining arm like it would somehow keep her alive.
A white-metal horned wrought stood over her, shoving desperate magics to the woman, trying to stop her degradation. Everywhere he poured white light, Tasar regained some of her solidity.
The white man was missing his left hand and one of his horns.
To the side lay the third person, who seemed like he should have been the one to receive all of the Healer’s ministrations, but that wasn’t happening. He was an orcol-shaped black adamantium man with a rent going halfway through his metal flesh, leading from his right shoulder to his left thigh. That was just one claw mark, though, likely inflicted by Melemizargo himself. But Melemizargo had multiple claws to a paw, and those other claws had sheared off the wrought’s left arm at the bicep, and half-clipped through his right thigh.
Erick took notice of their entire situation in a fraction of a second. As another second passed, he scoped out the rest of the area around them. He found no immediate threats, hidden or otherwise. With a thought, Erick sent a fully-protected Ophiel to them, lightstepping as fast as the little guy could go.
“How can I help?” Erick asked, from a few meters away from the white wrought man.
The white man glanced at Ophiel then instantly returned to his work, trying to hold Tasar together as he said, “Unless you have adamantium then you cannot help.”
“I have a few inscription knives here.” Erick asked, “Want them?”
“Yes. All of the magical ones.” The man tried not to panic as the left side of Tasar’s chest crumpled inward, turning liquid all at once, spreading black across the rocks. “Please. Hurry.”
With Ophiel’s help, Erick rapidly copied his formation knife inside a [Prismatic Ward]. In three flashing seconds, he had three hundred wrought-quality adamantium knives. In the fourth second, Ophiel lightstepped the lot of them to the three wrought, dumping them onto the ground beside Tasar.
The white wrought stared at the new pile, had a realization, and then stuffed that down as he moved to the knives, saying, “[Mending Aura] localized on Sitnakov, please. He’s the other one. I have to prep this metal for Tasar and then we all need [Mending Aura], but not before the metal is integrated into Tasar or an indistinct [Mend] will kill her.”
Erick did as asked, hovering Ophiel over to the wrought with rents through his entire body and opening up a [Mending Aura] atop the man. The man’s eyes remained closed but he winced hard, his body gradually flowing together in fits and spurts of barely-moving black metal.
While Erick did that, the white wrought cast a net of magic over the adamantium knives, shifting their harsh lines and hard edges into putty, molding the metal in a way that shouldn’t be possible with adamantium. The stump of his one forearm continued to hold the floating ball of metal in a net of magic, while dexterous fingers peeled off streamers of the stuff, guiding them into the cavity of Tasar’s chest.
“Eat, Tasar.” The white wrought said, “Eat, please. I need you to be present and—” A smile broke across his face as the streamers of metal began soaking into Tasar, forming organs, heart first. “Yes. Just like that. You’re going to be okay.”
Erick had no idea that wrought had organs. From what he was seeing inside Sitnakov’s chest, the man didn’t seem to have organs. Sitnakov was already looking better, though, but there was a long way to go, and it wasn’t long before Erick had to switch out Ophiels so that another, full Ophiel could continue with the [Mending Aura]; that spell cost 572 mana per second.
The white wrought continued to administer the ‘feeding’ of Tasar’s insides, repairing organs as he said, “I need more adamantium. Enough to heal the two of them. If you have any holyite, I’d take that, too, but this is a much lower priority.”
Erick began working on the first request while he spoke through Ophiel, “I have no holyite, but you got extra, right? I could copy some of your own white stuff?”
The man gave a small laugh. “Yes. Of course.” He tilted his head a bit, saying, “I got the horn wound. Take some blood from that.”
A separate Ophiel quickly danced in toward the man and used his sunform to scoop out a bit of the white metal from the broken horn. Erick pulled that bit of metal back toward him, back at Yggdrasil, while he dropped another load of magical daggers on the rocky land beside the healer.
“What’s your name?” Erick said, “I know Tasar from before. I don’t know Sitnakov.”
“Kromolok. High Priest of Rozeta.”
With another cast of net-like magic, Kromolok grabbed the new daggers and added them to the hovering orb of metal. His ministrations on Tasar were already paying off. The woman’s caved-in side was nearly repaired, with new adamantium becoming organs, then bone, then flesh and skin. The bleeding wounds all over her body were already ‘clotting’, or whatever it was wrought bodies did to stop the bleeding. Erick wasn’t even aware that wrought could bleed.
Lots of new information today.
Kromolok continued, “Rozeta told us that kindness would work better than anger, that you didn’t know what you were doing when you came down here. Of the danger you brought to the world when you breached the guardians.”
“I’m aware now.” Erick said, “So as soon as you’re all healed up we can leave, unless there are other problems you have with me.”
Kromolok sighed, his relief obvious, but he was not fully relieved, at all. “Will you consent to a mind wipe?”
“Absolutely not,” Erick said, in his most polite tone. “I have learned quite a few things down here, and they’re going to stay with me forever.”
Kromolok nodded, his gentle joy that no one was going to die replaced by something stronger. Something more resolute. “Sitnakov will wish to speak with you about a great many things.” Without looking at the downed man, Kromolok said, “You can stop [Mend]ing him now. The worst of the damage is repaired and any more [Mend]s will only cause more problems later.”
Erick had exhausted seven Ophiel [Mending Aura]ing Sitnakov, but he also resummoned those Ophiel and sent them back out. Not once had he let his guard down, either. Sitnakov’s chest was back to mostly-wholeness, but he was still missing an entire arm and the rest of his assorted wounds were still half there.
Erick asked, “Is Sitnakov going to wake up, soon?”
“I would prefer Tasar to be awake before him, but don’t tell anyone I said that and I won’t tell anyone you have [Duplicate].” Kromolok said, “I need four more piles of adamantium like the previous one, please.”
Erick dropped off a small pile of fully magical holyite next to Kromolok. The aluminum gleamed white in the light of the Inner Core above, but it also shifted with an essence of divine fire. Then he got to work on more knives as he said, “They’re going to understand where this metal came from, anyway, so your promise for a promise is a weak offer.”
“Ah. So you’re dropping pretenses? Then I will do the same.” Kromolok asked, “What is your goal in finding a Wizard?”
“I would prefer not to have anything to do with Wizardry but apparently the Worldly Path ends with Wizardry from Melemizargo, and I would prefer to avoid that.”
“I would like to break you off your Path.” Kromolok strung wires of adamantium into the stump of Tasar’s missing arm, rebuilding it as he said, “A [Teleport] network can do almost everything a [Gate] network can do and it doesn’t require Wizardry, or the Dark.”
“… Feel free to explain further.”
Kromolok nodded, continuing to repair Tasar as he said, “A series of Teleport Stations can replicate [Gate]’s ability to go anywhere on Veird. There are even special Darkness-repelling runeworks that allow t-stations to function in the Underworld. Every Geode has these sorts of stations. We are considering allowing this magic out into the rest of the world if you agree to step off of the Worldly Path.”
A blossom of cold anger flowed out from the center of Erick’s chest, invading the rest of him like a chilly wind. “Ah. So you have kept this from the rest of the world for some reason? You’ve denied civilization the ability to connect to each other up till now? Till someone forced this action from you?”
“Yes.” Kromolok said, “You can have the headache of keeping the Dark-touched mortals in line for we want nothing to do with them unless they start breaking things.”
Erick’s anger cooled, replaced by solidity. “Fair enough.” He dumped another load of knives two meters away from Kromolok, giving the man what appeared to be enough to heal everyone, as he said, “But I still want [Gate].”
Kromolok frowned as he finished creating the metal bones of Tasar’s arm, and started to flow more adamantium onto that skeleton, like shaping putty around sticks. Erick wasn’t even aware that wrought had skeletons. In fact, he was pretty sure healthy ones didn’t. Kromolok netted himself some more knives, turning them into more raw material as he said, “The alternative of going through the Dark to acquire [Gate] is to find another Wizard, and the Dark won’t let you. Your Path will take you down dangerous roads, killing millions of people. You need to end this whole thing, right now, and pick another way—”
Sitnakov grumbled, “Dammit, Krom. You’re not... talk... for…” His voice trailed off.
His wounds began to leak metal, with the half-healed rent across his chest turning goopy.
Kromolok frowned at the large orcol-like man. With a twist of his remaining hand he tied off his healing of Tasar, leaving her with many small wounds and an arm that was mostly skeletal. With a flick of his severed wrist, Kromolok grabbed up some more adamantium into a hovering ball of black, then he moved over toward Sitnakov and began to heal away the fresh bleed, saying, “If you would have dodged better, you could have been the one to speak first.”
Sitnakov’s eyes shot open. His chest expanded as he drew breath, but then sudden, wracking coughs stole all the words he was trying to say.
Kromolok seemed to know what the larger man was about, though, as he said, “If you would have kept it together then you could have been the one to speak, but you didn’t, so I went first. Do not complain about this.” Sitnakov relaxed, his breathing evening out as Kromolok’s healing took hold; the floating ball of metal turning into threads that became bones and muscles. The healer said, “He’s denied my path, though, so you’re up next.”
Sitnakov grumbled at that—
He jerked a tiny bit, his eyes going wide as he looked down and saw the ball of metal above Kromolok’s stump of a forearm. “Where did you…” He tilted his head and took in the sight of Tasar, who was slightly breathing, Ophiel, who hovered above, and then the piles of adamantium knives that had yet to become new flesh. “[Duplicate]. Damned priests and... secrets.”
“Actually, that’s me.” Erick said, “By the way, I didn’t think wrought had bones. Or organs or blood. Learn something new every day.”
Without looking Ophiel’s way, Kromolok said, “I would have kept this secret, Erick.”
“And I would prefer not to have secrets at all, especially once people start moving around here and seeing what I’ve been touching while I’ve been in this apparently holy land of yours.” Erick said, “I’d prefer to be upfront about everyone’s reasons for anger.”
Sitnakov laughed loudly, but that laugh quickly turned into gurgling, and coughing, but laughter kept coming.
Kromolok slapped Sitnakov on the chest with his free hand. “Stop moving. Stop it.”
Sitnakov killed his laughter, though he had to go through some small chuckles before it fully vanished. When he could, he tried to act professional, even if remained sprawled on the ground, bleeding from hundreds of wounds. He asked, “Did Kromolok introduce himself?”
“Nope. You were all bleeding out, so I worked—” Erick noticed Tasar started bleeding again, but it was internal. “Tasar is bleeding in her chest again. The organs reappeared and the bleeding started and this is all very weird.”
Kromolok instantly said, “Do not move, Sitnakov. Stay there. I mean it.” And then he detached his repairing magics from the man and moved back to Tasar. He squinted a bit, then he said, “Ah. She’s… Hmm.” He started running adamantium into her chest, fixing internal injuries as he could.
Sitnakov glanced at the two other wrought, then he turned to face Ophiel, hovering overhead. “I’m Sitnakov Stratagold, of Heavy Adamantium. I come offering you methods toward [Gate] that you may or may not be able to grasp, along with our libraries of magical lore. In return, we ask you to step off the Worldly Path. We require no other necessities from you. We have other offers that you might like more, or less, but either one works for the needs of Stratagold. High Inquisitor Priest Kromolok, of True Holyite, wishes you off the Path and also to remove your memories of your time in this land. Such a removal would be painless, of course. Geode Guardian Archmage Tasar, of Green Adamantium, wishes—”
Tasar grumbled, her thick voice barely a whisper, but more than loud enough to be heard among the otherwise silent lands, “I can speak for myself, Sitnakov.”
“Then please do,” Sitnakov said, still laying down. “And actually speak; don’t whisper.”
“You shouldn’t speak, yet,” Kromolok said, “Let me work.”
Tasar’s remaining good hand clutched her black staff, hard. Erick only now noticed that it wasn’t a metal staff; it was black crystal. Tasar winced hard at her own movements, then she relaxed, and spoke clearly, asking, “How far are on your Path, Archmage Flatt?”
Kromolok tsk’d, but gave no other complaints as he healed Tasar.
“Two or three steps from the end, not including the end.” Erick said, “Things ramped up rather damned fast when I came here. Did a lot. Learned a lot about myself, and my goals.”
Tasar asked, “What other steps do you think you have? Before [Gate]?”
“Finally got aura control, so now I gotta learn to Remake some magic and skills, like Clarity and Meditation and Mana Altering. I want to make my own Particle Mage Class Ability, too. After that, I might need to visit some dragons in Ar’Cosmos to learn more about [Gate]. I think I’ll be done by then, but then I have to put everything together and get a Wizard to ‘anoint’ it, or whatever it is they do.” Erick said, “Still not sure what makes a Wizard a Wizard, even after plundering the Grand Wizard’s Tower for everything I could find.”
Sitnakov winced. “That close, huh.”
Tasar said, “I humbly ask you to visit Oceanside before continuing with any other steps. Kirginatharp holds in wait Angelic and Demonic forces, hoping to use your Worldly Path to force them into some sort of long-term ceasefire.” She added, “While we are there, I can teach you all about Remaking all known Basic Tier magic, every skill, how to make a Class Ability, as well as much of what the dragons in Ar’Cosmos know of [Gate].”
Kromolok frowned as he treated Tasar.
Erick felt good about that offer, actually. “What do you want in return, Tasar?”
“For you and I to pursue a Wizard that is not the Darkness in order to end your Worldly Path, and also for you to teach me how to make a [Familiar] that has their own mana.” Tasar said, “I have tried the methods you explained to your apprentice and that other girl, but the methods now held at the Magisterium of the Wasteland Kingdoms do not work for me. I want personal teaching.”
Kromolok’s frown deepened. “Greedy girl.”
The orcol wrought had a decidedly stronger reaction. He spoke with a deep heaviness to his voice, “Tasar.”
“You all aren’t offering him enough!” Tasar said, “I already explained to you—”
“Line up with me and we’ll elevate you to Heavy,” Sitnakov said.
Tasar went stock still. Slowly, she turned her head and locked eyes with Sitnakov. Kromolok stared at the orcol-shaped man, too, his healing of Tasar still happening, but slower.
Sitnakov said, “I can ensure it happens.”
Tasar weakly said, “He won’t pick your option, for he knows not what you actually offer.” She looked up to Ophiel, her voice slightly stronger, “My offer shines true, Archmage Flatt. Let us go to Oceanside together.”
Sitnakov spoke, “You're making a mistake, Tasar.”
“And I will make that mistake on my own terms, evading the weight of the Heavies as I always have.” Tasar added, softer, “At least one more time.”
Sitnakov kept his face impassive, if a bit sad.
Erick sighed, and turned Ophiel toward Sitnakov, “What is the actual offer, Sitnakov Stratagold?”
Erick did not miss that the man’s last name was in line with his city.
Now it was Tasar’s turn to deflate a bit.
Sitnakov happily said, “As the rulers of Stratagold, the largest city in the entire world, with the strongest armies and the most learned archmages, we have more to offer than you can possibly imagine. As a start: Ar’Kendrithyst’s reclamation is going well, and it might even succeed with enough time and resources dedicated to the cause, and we can make that happen. We have the resources to do that. We can help you turn the Crystal Forest back to actual forest, too.
“We can also set up Teleport Stations between a revived Kendrithyst and Stratagold, and while they are not [Gate]s, they can still enable quick and easy transportation between cities. With such a Teleport Station network, you will be able to easily reach all the way across the world. And I know what you’re thinking. Probably ‘Why not set up these systems before now’? And the answer is that the Shades were too powerful on the Surface, but now they’re gone, so we’re eager to retake what was lost to us so long ago.” He said, “And, of course, we offer to throw open our libraries to you, along with specialized teaching from other archmages like yourself, all in the hopes to enable you to make [Gate] without the Darkness. We don’t even mind helping you hunt down a stray Wizard or two, though that is not something we can guarantee, you understand.
“And one last thing: We don’t normally treat with mortals because we cannot stand to watch people we love die, so we’d also work with you to get you immortality through any number of methods which you should be able to cast, given your previous accomplishments.”
Tasar breathed out, possibly feeling that her offer was thoroughly trounced, and that she should have thrown in with Sitnakov, after all. Erick wasn’t sure he was reading that correctly, but it was close.
Kromolok’s reaction was much more controlled. He didn’t give anything away, and that right there was giving away a truth, too. Sitnakov’s offer was real.
Erick said, “Compelling.” And it was. Truly, it was. But…
Hunting down wizards, eh? Tasar’s offer wasn’t better in that respect, but Erick felt more comfortable about palling around with an obviously-outcast archmage, than with a prince of Stratagold.
And then Sitnakov went and removed all choice.
With a politician’s smile, Sitnakov added, “Or, we will lean on you with the full force of Stratagold, forcing you off the Path, and breaking your small part of the world in the process, including you and whoever else we have to kill to ensure our point has been made.”
Tasar sighed.
Kromolok sighed, too.
“Ah.” Erick’s anger spiked, but he kept it under control as he calmly asked, “And what is the point you are trying to make?”
“Infiltrating the Core is bad enough, but succeeding in the Worldly Path is something we cannot allow.” Sitnakov sat up, sky-blue power flowing across his body, grabbing the piles of adamantium that Kromolok had yet to touch and liquefying them in that same instant. Black metal flowed into his remaining wounds, and into the stump of his arm, replacing what had been lost in three short seconds. Sitnakov gave a sharp grin as he got to his feet, saying. “Almost as bad as an archmage who has [Duplicate]. Can’t let you ruin the world with that spell, either.”
Erick hummed, then said, “I see. I see. Well. I’m still going after [Gate].” He happily added, “Try and stop me.”
Sitnakov laughed loud, his dark eyes gleaming with joy as he said, “Sounds good to me!”