The land outside of this [Fairy Stronghold] held rocks and scattered sand drifts, but there were still no truly distinguishing features on the horizons. Anyone who landed in here could surely [Scry] out and up to get their bearings, which was why Erick had placed multiple layers of Privacys and his own [Domain of Benevolent Light] around the outside of the meeting location. The inside held multiple overlapping [Zone of Peace]s, with more scattered outside to intercept any possible long-range Red Dots, or similar magics. Erick doubted that all of these protections could truly stand up to a hostile dragon, which is why it was only him, Poi, and Burhendurur in this space.
Erick had had a good half hour talk with the Death Dragon who worked for him about the undead dragolich coming for a visit, and everything he had to say was both good, and cautious, and how he wanted to be here to deal with the possible Benevolencing or [Reincarnation] of Zenipeq. Burhendurur was still a bit miffed that Erick hadn’t told him he was a dragon until that conversation.
“I would have preferred some more time to come to terms with you actually making Benevolence Dragons, my king. I have many conversations I have kept waiting for this day, if you ever chose this route. Warnings and nuances and… If I have given offense and lost your trust, please allow me to make it up to you.”
Erick said, “It was nothing like that, Burhendurur. I’m simply not telling people who don’t need to know, until they need to know. And now, you needed to know. Don’t tell the others yet.”
“… Fair enough.” Burhendurur breathed, then said, “Allow me to say a few small things while we wait, if you will.”
“Proceed.”
“This is complicated, but I will give you the overview: If you should choose a Benevolencing, you should ask her for her [Dragon Body] box, and if she asks for yours in return, you must deny her, for you are not meeting as equals in an exchange of information to better understand what children might possibly look like, or to plan around general capabilities in a strike-force-type situation. You are meeting with her as her superior, and thus she should not know all there is to know of you. After the transformation, she will end up with some form of [Dragon Body] that is not her current one, but is similar to yours. After the transformation, you must return her old [Dragon Body] to her, so that she will have a memento of her past.” Burhendurur said, “That whole thing I described is a small ritual of polite society, when it comes to the induction of a dragon into a House.”
“… Ah.” Erick suddenly recalled his ‘ritual of politeness’ with Al, and Al had spoken of that ritual with a lot less reverence than Burhendurur was giving it. “It occurs to me that I don’t have your box. Should I ask for it?”
Burhendurur said, “If I am allowed to see yours, in turn.”
Erick grinned a little. “But I am in charge here, am I not?”
“You are, my king.”
Burhendurur handed over a blue box without further word. Erick’s refusal had been a test, and Erick passed. Burhendurur’s [Dragon Body] was surely different than Erick’s.
Dragon Body, Permanently Active, 0 mana
Assume a draconic form based on your nature, at will, gaining
Assume a new Familiar Form of any type you have experience with, at will.
Immortal.
Burhendurur looked at the box in Erick’s hands, and at Erick, worrying. But then Erick dismissed the box in front of Burhendurur, and the man relaxed. The Death Dragon said, “Thank you, my king.”
‘Thank you’ meant a big deal coming from Burhendurur, from someone who had lived in Ar’Cosmos his whole life.
Erick said, “So does ‘dead things’ mean dead skin and the dead parts of trees?”
“Bones, mostly. Everything else is too ephemeral to really grasp.”
“None of this capability was in your resume.”
“And it would not have been right to include those, either. We do not share things like this with those who are not dragons, no matter their power or our allegiances. The exposure of one’s true draconic self is a highly private matter, for showing off these sorts of things means your death if others should become aware of exactly what you can do.”
“A lot of things mean that.”
“… True. I suppose our foibles must be odd to someone in your position.”
“And I’m not from this world, too,” Erick said, smirking.
“… I have a book I wish to let you borrow and then return. It is a book of proper etiquette among dragons. Rules for approaching each other. Rules for displaying details of oneself, including, uh, wearing your horns like you should. It is a trifle of propriety to learn these small things, and in return, dealing with each other carries much less risk of destruction to the surroundings, or to each other’s properties.”
Erick grinned a little, saying, “I would like to read that—”
“There is a complication,” Poi said, interrupting the conversation. “Zenipeq is ready, but she brings three guards and one surprise. You will know of the surprise person once they are here, in this space. The coming conversation will involve them as well. She is unwilling to tell me who the new person is; only that you know them and would approve of their inclusion as the unannounced replacement for her previously-agreed upon fourth guard. Zenipeq seems sincere.”
Erick’s instincts were to allow it.
He asked Burhendurur, “Thoughts?”
“I would allow it. She has always traded fairly with Ar’Cosmos, and she might be surprising us with a last minute change, but she is still telling us that there is a change, and is asking us to allow it. She is likely not lying.”
“Even when it comes to the possible end of her life?”
“Especially then.”
Erick had already asked Poi if he wanted to be here for this, but he asked again, “And you want to be here for this?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then tell her that I’ll be opening the [Gate] at the agreed upon location. [Zone of Peace] is in effect.”
“She agrees, and is ready.”
Far away, on a mountainside to the north of the Wasteland Kingdoms, Erick had Ophiel cast a [Zone of Peace], and then he opened a [Gate] from there to this [Fairy Stronghold] in the Crystal Forest. Inside his Stronghold, a ring of lightning twenty meters ripped open, revealing that mountainside.
Erick watched a cloud of ice that hovered in the distance, between mountain peaks. It was a very conspicuous cloud, because while it was a kilometer across and rather fluffy, it was a shade too blue to be anything but a magical effect.
That cloud looked at Erick, and then it shifted, twisting and collapsing into one human woman with pale white skin and frost in her blue hair, and with a gossamer dress that floated around her like she was underwater. Her hair floated in that same way, Erick saw. Behind her were four people in full-body covering pale-blue armor. All of Zenipeq’s people were orcol-sized, which could have been an affectation, or a way to hide the one among them who was the odd inclusion.
As a group, Zenipeq floated forward, carrying her people behind her on airy Platforms made of mist.
She had no horns that Erick could see, though her whole ‘airy mist thing’ was a definite physical trait that marked her as something other than what she appeared to be, which was a rather beautiful human woman with some odd coloration.
Erick stood on his side of the [Fairy Stronghold], on his side of the lightning ring.
Zenipeq stood on her mountainside, on her side of the lightning ring.
Erick greeted her, “Greetings, Zenipeq, Ice Wraith Dragon Queen of Frostflower.”
Zenipeq breathed a little, then bowed just her head. She rose, saying, “Greetings, Erick Flatt, Benevolent Wizard King of Candlepoint and Ar’Cosmos and of Earth. Savior of Light, Fire of the Age, Conqueror of Ar’Kendrithyst, and Gatemaster. Father to Yggdrasil.”
Erick held a soft, professional smile, saying, “I am sure you have more titles, too, but I was not expecting you to go through most of mine.”
“If you have more, I will honor them.”
Erick had at least one more; ‘Dragon’. But Zenipeq did not know that yet; Erick wanted to know what kind of person Zenipeq was before he started offering that major power.
Erick gestured to his side of the meeting. “Would you care to come inside? The [Zone of Peace] protects us both.”
“I would have my extra person verify it for me, if that is alright with you.”
Erick said, “Proceed. But who is this mystery person you have brought with you?”
Erick was already looking over all of Zenipeq’s people with his mana sense, for they were in range, but as far as he could tell the people with Zenipeq were just orcols.
“That would be me,” said the man directly to Zenipeq’s left. He walked forward, past the lightning ring, saying, “It’s been a few months since I saw you last, Erick.” He glanced around, inspecting the space, then he turned back, saying, “Come on in and be quick about it.”
Erick… Was having trouble placing the man. The male orcol was using something more than simple obfuscation magics to hide himself, for he wasn’t actually hiding himself at all. He appeared like a dude that anyone would find on the streets of Treehome—
“Oh,” Erick said, thinking he might have got it. He was pretty sure this was either Quilatalap, or Syllea’s brother, Omaz. It was probably not Omaz, though, because that would be a stretch of believability. Erick would be fine with meeting Quilatalap again, though. Quilatalap had helped him quite a lot during Last Shadow’s Feast. “Hmm.”
The man who might have been Quilatalap looked to Erick and smiled beneath his mask. “Did you figure it out?”
“Maybe.”
Zenipeq and her other three people walked through the lightning ring.
Erick shut it behind them.
And now it was just the eight of them on a flat platform in a hundred meter cubic [Fairy Stronghold] somewhere in the Crystal Forest north of the Gate District.
Zenipeq bowed to Erick, and then bowed to her three people who were not the fourth, saying, “This one thanks you for your service. Please return home and ensure a smooth transition of power.”
The three unknowns had some deep emotions in their eyes and their stances. All three hesitated, but all three slammed their pale-blue armored chests with gauntleted hands, and said, “Our queen in life and death. We salute you.”
Zenipeq’s breath caught as she took one last long look at them, and then she turned back to Erick, asking, “Could you please put them somewhere safe, but not where we were? There were [Long Scry]s on us before we stepped into this place.”
Erick did so, opening a [Gate] to the side of the room that led to a beach. “This leads to the coast of the Crystal Forest, south east of Candlepoint.”
The three guards left.
Erick closed the [Gate] behind them.
And now, it was just the five of them.
Erick began, “So who is this mystery person?”
“It’s me.”
Without any visible magical effect, the remaining orcol in the room was suddenly someone else.
Quilatalap.
The undead orcol whom Erick had met at Last Shadow’s Feast, who had taught him quite a few crucial things about Soul Magic, who had protected him during that time while Erick lived in his house for a few days, until everything went to shit. This man had brought necromancy from the Old Cosmology to the New Cosmology, was a Black Priest and Holy Necromancer of Koyabez, and had Rozeta’s recommendation that he was a ‘decent’ sort of guy. But all the world hated him for his necromancy, and also because he was instrumental during the Rage Wars in ensuring the immortality of the orcol war machine. Probably more reasons besides those, too. So Quilatalap moved around a lot, escaping inquisition and crusade and otherwise. He had lived in Ar’Kendrithyst for a long while, though, pretending to be the Caretaker of the Armory; the Shade who oversaw the trials that people undertook in order to prove themselves worthy of the prizes that actual Shades had put up for the winning. He was an archlich at least 3,000 years old, with a soul that was more like a hole in the world, lined with teeth. He flexed those teeth as he winked at Erick.
“Hello again! You’ve been pretty busy since last I saw you.”
Poi went still.
Zenipeq waited her turn to speak, deferring everything to Quilatalap.
Burhendurur prostrated himself with a sudden kneel and a bow, not saying a word.
And Erick just stood there for a long moment, then he said, “Hello again, Quilatalap. How you doing?”
“Can’t complain, can’t complain. Zenipeq has treated me rather decently, but due to this dragon exodus thing, plans changed.” Quilatalap asked, “And so, I’m looking for a place to stay for a while. Got any openings at House Benevolence for anything at all? Zenipeq is looking for a new place to stay for a while, too, but as for me, I’m really just looking for some stability in my life, and I’m willing to support those who won’t try to kill or take advantage of me. Fair warning though: It’s usually better to use me to maintain some system, or something. If I’m requested to teach someone something, they usually end up learning too much and then they cause problems, of which I will not be held responsible.”
“Uh…” Erick said, “Yes. Yup. Sounds— Uh. Hold on. I need to think for a minute.”
Quilatalap smiled a little, waiting.
Burhendurur was still prostrated on the ground, but he was suddenly very, very happy about everything. He was also a little bit insanely mad jealous of Erick, though he was doing a very good job of hiding that, as his face was against the floor. Everyone in the room either had mana sense or mental senses, though, so he wasn’t doing nearly as good a job of hiding himself as he hoped he was.
Poi was concerned, but not nearly as concerned as he had been moments before.
Erick directed his thoughts to Quilatalap’s question: did he want the man here in Candlepoint?
Erick’s instinct was to say yes.
Quilatalap was very much an amoral sort of person, but he was not a bad person. When he was running the Armory, he ensured traps and summoned creatures killed whoever tried coming through that place, but he also [True Resurrection]ed people who died, and offered them an ‘out’; they could give up on their selected difficulty of trial, and just leave. No harm, no foul. If people persisted, though, he let them die.
When he was undercover as a Shade, Killzone’s thoughts on the man were mostly of the Armory, and a ‘don’t go there’ sort of warning.
Silverite did not like necromancers, but Silverite and Quilatalap were both Priests of Koyabez, and she didn’t really have too much evil to say about Quilatalap. She still hated him, though. Probably for a bunch of different actual reasons, too.
But Quilatalap could be a valuable resource.
Where would Erick put him, though?
Erick decided to just ask him, “Got any preference for a placement?”
Quilatalap smiled. “I could help out with Enforcement patrols, or perhaps I can reprise my role as Caretaker the Shade and run a library, or something like that. I’m fine with interacting with people, but I’m serious when I say that people always try to worm knowledge out of me and they usually can.”
Erick did not need to be a Mind Mage to know that Burhendurur was absolutely livid with jealousy, and if Erick did not choose Enforcement, then—
Erick looked down at Burhendurur, and said, “Stop that, Burhendurur.”
Burhendurur froze.
Erick said to Quilatalap, “I want other people to learn how to [Reincarnation]. Therefore, I want you to make a library at House Benevolence, and when we get students who are vetted through… I don’t know. All six offices? And me? Then you can teach them whatever you want to teach them, and also [Reincarnation], which I will teach to you when I am able. No teaching outside of those specific parameters, though… Uh… And I’m sure I’ll have more to say about that later.”
Quilatalap’s eyes went wide. “Oh wow. Okay! Yes. I agree. Sounds great to me. I. Uh. I got some gifts. I thought it might be more difficult to work that out. Glad to see I was mistaken. You can still have the gifts. Mostly magical plants.”
“Details to be worked out later. Before that, though,” Erick asked, “Do you vet Zenipeq?”
Zenipeq’s eyes went wide. This was it. She prepared herself as much as she could.
She was probably preparing herself for the wrong thing, though.
Quilatalap said, “Sure. She’s a pretty stable force. Has been for around 700 years. Few incidents with Dragon Curse slipping, but other than that she’s been as fine as any other leader of nations out there. After [Reincarnation] she’ll have lost everything, though, so it’ll take her a good 50 years to get it all back. She’d be good as an advisor in that time, if you want her for that. Any role is acceptable, though.”
All that boded well for Zenipeq, and she knew it.
Erick asked her, “I have a few things I want to change about how you run Frostflower, Zenipeq, and then we can talk about the rest.”
To his side, Burhendurur slowly rose, now that the conversation was not about Quilatalap; he would prostrate himself before the Archlich of Necromancy itself, but he would not do so regarding a fellow dragon.
Zenipeq’s frost-blue eyes narrowed. Her floating dress and hair turned frosty, and stiffer. “I will not be able to return there for quite some time, and possibly never, Wizard Flatt. It is my understanding that [Reincarnation] will strip everything from me, including my [Dragon Body] and my lichdom. If it will not affect my lichdom then… I still cannot return, for I will be bereft of my magic.”
Erick nodded, then asked, “And if I can help you retake your land? I am not interested in disturbing the order of the world more than I already have, and so I am trying to mitigate the upsets of the Dragon Exodus.”
Zenipeq’s eyes went wide again. She cautiously asked, “What requests do you have of me?”
“Acceptance of International Common Law in Frostflower. Ceasing all construction of magical items that come about through the use of criminal souls. You will pay for and maintain a Gate which will be opened in a quarantine zone set outside of Candlepoint lands, connecting to somewhere to be decided in Frostflower lands. Trade will happen, of some sort, which is what I understand you do all the time with Ar’Cosmos anyway. And you will comply with—” Erick interrupted himself. He had been about to say, ‘comply with Best Necromancy Practices, as outlined in the Arcanaeum Consortium Charter.’ as Zolan had suggested, but he could already tell that he was driving swords into Zenipeq’s soul with every extra demand. So instead, he said, “And that’s it.”
Zenipeq’s flowing blue hair and dress turned absolutely frosty, solidifying around her like armor. “You would have me return to my own lands a conqueror, to usurp my people and my way of life. All for what? Lesser power and needing constant vigilance, and constantly tied to Candlepoint and to you, constantly requesting power when what I have is not enough? You would turn me into a lapcat, and when I finally grow tired of your demands I would either kill you, or you would kill me, and—”
Quilatalap rapidly said, “Zeni.”
“What!” Zenipeq demanded. “He knows what he is doing! Look at him!”
Quilatalap said, “Please excuse her, Erick. She’s been a bit depressive since this whole Exodus thing—”
“And your refusal to answer my letter for four days didn’t help!” Zenipeq yelled, “Erick.”
“She would never turn on you if you helped her get her power back.”
“Quilatalap!” Zeni said, “You can’t just tell him that!” And then she looked at Erick, and panic subsumed her, and then came depression. She twisted in on herself and collapsed into a pile of blue mist and frost. “Fuck, I’m gonna die. I fucked it all up.” Her voice trailed into itself, “Fuck fuck fuck.”
Erick said, “I could already tell that she was just testing me, but thank you anyway, Quilatalap. Dragons seem to naturally wear their emotions like it doesn’t matter that people know what they’re thinking.”
Quilatalap said, “I think it’s more that they want people to know that they’re thinking… Most of the time.”
“Ah. Well. That’s true, too.” Erick said, “Anyway! I won’t be helping you take back your nation, anyway, because you’re going to do that yourself. Another option has come available besides [Reincarnation]. Thanks to a bunch of gods deciding they wanted me to be a whole lot stronger than I was before, I’m a Benevolence Dragon, and I can do that for you through a single spell which I already have, and which already worked on another dragon about two hours ago.”
Zenipeq froze in her mist form. Quite literally, too. Instead of being a pile of mist, she was a twist of unmoving frost.
Quilatalap looked at Erick. “Oh. Ah. Ha! I didn’t think you’d go through with that. Not in that way, anyway.”
“I thought about a Big Wizard solution, but everyone wanted me to go through established magics.” Erick said to Zenipeq’s frozen form, “If you agreed to some International Common Law, ceasing the punitive uses of souls, and the Gate to Frostflower, then I can transform you into a Benevolence Dragon right now. It’s gonna fucking hurt, though. Hurt you, I mean. I’ll be fine. Can undead accept Healing Magic? Because I had to use a lot of [Greater Treat Wounds] the last time and that was a mess.” Erick said, “I ended up with about a full dragon’s dismembered body on a floor very similar to this one.”
As Erick spoke, Zenipeq’s frozen form gradually thawed. When he finished, in one smooth motion, Zenipeq reconstituted herself into her human-ish woman form. “I accept your Benevolence, and your requests, though my city is not a monarchy, and so it will take time to run your Common International Law request through the Lords Court.”
“… Not a monarchy?”
“A democratically-elected Lords Court makes the laws.”
Erick stood a bit straighter. “Ah… Huh. Are there living people on that court?”
Zenipeq stared as one would stare at a peculiar bug she found on the floor. “… You wouldn’t put children in charge of the law, would you— Ah. Wait. You’re young. You would. Uh…” She paused. “I can put forth ballots to try and get at least one or two mortals on the court… That will take time, too.”
“One or two seats out of how many?”
Zenipeq thought about lying. Then she thought better. “100.”
“… Uh huh.” Erick asked, “And the population of mortals to immortals?”
“Oh like you’re any better! You got democracy here at all? No you do not.”
“It’s in the works. Long term plans. But I’m still trying to build the damned place, though, and you’re at 700+ years old.”
“… A thousand mortals to one lich.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
“I built the place for liches! Not always-dying mortals! The mortals just sort of happened. I try to do right by them but it’s hard to care about ephemeral things that can die at any damned time for any reason at all. They fall out of bed and die!” Zenipeq said, “And don’t get me started on babies. Ugh!”
Despite her words, her attitude was great.
When she was a Benevolence dragon she’d probably see a lot of things differently, anyway.
So Erick confidently said, “I’m ready to transform you whenever you want.”
Zenipeq froze again. “What? You are? After what I just said? I didn’t give you any confirmation at all that I would actually change how we do things over there?”
Erick smiled softly, saying, “I’m pretty confident that this will turn out well.”
“… Are you now?”
“Yup.”
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“… Fuck it. Let’s do this. Do I need to be a dragon, or do you need my soul, or what?”
“… I honestly do not know how this works on liches.”
Quilatalap suggested, “Let’s do this in a way in which it is least likely to go weird.” And then he brought out a shining blue crystal from a pocket. “This is Zenipeq.”
Zenipeq froze again upon seeing that little blue crystal. Her eyes darting from the object to Erick, and then back to Quilatalap. She was unsure.
Quilatalap held it out to Zenipeq, saying, “I think we’re safe enough, Zeni, and you should hand it off yourself. This is it.”
Zenipeq steeled herself, and then she strode over to Quilatalap. She did not physically pick up the blue gem; she held out her hand and the gem came to her without any visible magic. And then she clutched the gem to her chest, walked toward Erick, and held herself out in the air, about a meter from him.
“This is me. My real form. My body is a summoned construct, like all liches.” Zenipeq whispered, “I entrust myself to you.”
And the blue gem was not really a gem at all. It was a flowerbud about the size of a fist made of ice and sapphires and glowing blue-white magic. It hummed.
Erick looked to Poi.
Poi nodded; no trickery.
Erick asked, “Do you want to do an exchange of [Dragon Body]s?”
Zenipeq startled. “Oh! Uh. That old custom? Uh… How does it— Ah. Here. This is mine. Please give it back when you are done with it, or break it.”
Erick smiled a little bit as Burhendurur shook his head.
Dragon Body, Permanently Active, 0 mana
Assume a draconic form based on your nature, at will, gaining
Assume a new Familiar Form of any type you have experience with, at will.
Immortal.
Erick said, “I'll give it back to you afterward, since you’re going to have a new one.”
Zenipeq stood straight. “Ah…” She looked a bit sad. “Thank you.”
Erick cast his [Blessing of Draconic Benevolence].
It was not nearly as messy as with Al, but as the air filled with breaking razors of ice and a whole lot of [Cleanse] and the roars of a room full of mist in pain, Erick blipped Poi out of there, as they planned on if something like this should happen.
When the thrashing and crashing was over, Zenipeq’s phylactery was a pile of broken ice and chipped sapphires, scattered by an errant tail swipe that clipped Erick, but which did nothing but break his shirt a little. A [Mend] fixed that.
And now, Zenipeq was a 50-meter-long sleeping dragon, sprawled across the room like a tangle of blue-white 3-meter-wide pipes.
Quilatalap announced, “Well that was something I have never actually seen before. I was hoping to see a [Reincarnation], but that was almost better.” He looked to Erick. “So? Can I still stay with you?”
“Yes. Glad to have you. Zenipeq is going back to Frostflower, though.”
Quilatalap grinned. “I think you made a friend-for-eternity there, Erick.”
“Good news all around, then.”
Burhendurur had both a sudden heart attack upon hearing that Quilatalap staying was ever in question, and then sudden relief when Erick confirmed that Quilatalap was staying. He never said a word, though. He was still occupied with looking at Zenipeq.
Erick said to Quilatalap, “I’ve got more meetings like this and I was not expecting her to need to sleep. Are you going to look after her until she wakes? Because I was going to leave an Ophiel here for that purpose. What do you want to do? Also, I made a house for you on Yggdrasil’s branches already. It’s a [Fairy Stronghold], though, so I need to actually show you the place.”
“I’ll stay here until she wakes.” Quilatalap asked, “I’ll take a [Gate] to the new house for a moment though, to see the door and whatnot. I can take it from there.”
Erick opened a [Gate] beside Quilatalap. “There you go.”
Quilatalap didn’t need to go through to see the space; mana sense was enough. “Ah. That looks nice. Thanks, Erick— Oh. I would like to see a [Reincarnation], if you don’t mind. Whenever you get around to the next one. Or the one after. Also, I’d like to teach you [True Resurrection] when you have some time. Maybe you can make real use of that spell, unlike Messalina.”
“… I have a lot of thoughts on that, but mostly, I kinda want to stay out of the [True Resurrection] debate.”
Quilatalap furrowed his brow a little bit. “It’s not really a debate. But… We can talk later?”
“Yes. Want me to leave the [Gate] to your house open for you?”
“Nope. Thanks though.”
“Then I’m off to meet another dragon.” Erick closed that [Gate] and opened another, into a different space almost exactly like this one, but in another location. “Come on, Burhendurur— Oh yeah. Burhendurur. My Overseer of Enforcement. Quilatalap… And you know him.”
Burhendurur bowed deeply to Quilatalap, saying, “It is an honor, sir Quilatalap, to stand in your presence and—”
“Come on, Burhendurur!” Erick called from the other side of the [Gate].
Quilatalap said to Burhendurur, “I’m sure we’ll talk more later, too.”
Burhendurur rapidly followed Erick, though it was clearly under duress.
Erick closed the [Gate], and then said to Burhendurur, “A fan, I take it?”
Burhendurur started gushing facts and stories and did not stop until Poi came back and the next meeting started.
- - - -
Erick had no idea who this guy was, only that he was some person from the Greensoil Republic who kept a low profile and could not stand other dragons. He wanted to go back home and never show up on anyone’s radar at all. He felt being a dragon was a curse, in more ways than the literal.
Burhendurur thought he was being dramatic, but he did not express that opinion too loudly.
After confirming that the man’s words were true through a Mind-Mage-backed truth telling, which Poi administered, Erick had to stop the meeting, and get Aisha and Teressa involved. The dragon was absolutely miserable as a dragon, but Erick saw that he could be happier if he was Paradox’ed. In a sudden pang of conscience, Erick did not want to deprive the world of a possible good thing, and he certainly didn’t want to give this guy the death he seemed to crave, but was unwilling to follow through with himself.
Burhendurur thought Erick was being dramatic, too.
With Teressa and Aisha standing in front of the guy, they confirmed what Erick had already suspected.
So Erick sent Teressa and Aisha back, and then asked the man simply known as ‘Scutt’, “Do you want to be a Benevolence Dragon and work for me, Scutt?”
For one brief shining moment, Scutt looked like hope had arrived. And then he said, “No. This is a curse. I want it gone. This thing with the fairy and your option of [Reincarnation] is just my final impetus to do what I should have done a long time ago; to truly leave this life behind.”
“… Are you sure?”
Both Teressa and Aisha had said that Scutt would make a fine Benevolence dragon, but here he was saying ‘no’? Erick wasn’t going to force his own opinions onto the man, but he felt Scutt was making the wrong decision. And by a lot. Privately, Burhendurur agreed with Erick.
“Yes. [Reincarnation], please.”
… Maybe he could regain his draconic self later, and Erick could Benevolence it then.
Yes.
That could work.
“Okay. So you wrote out the [Reincarnation] paperwork but it was… Thin.” Thin to the point of failure to complete the assignment, actually. “Is there anything you haven’t listed that you want specifically?”
“I want a normal human male body. Nothing special, at all. And I want a future where I can actually love someone again. A woman, I think. That’s always easier to find. Age is whatever. 20? Sure. 20 is usually a good age.”
“… Want a place at Candlepoint? We’re taking refugees.”
Scutt stood up straight. “Yes. I do. Uh. Oh. Can I be good with money, this time? I’ve never been good with money before… Can you… Can you do that? I’ll find a job on my own, though… I don’t like being known by powers like you. Sorry. I probably should have cared about that paperwork more but… I just don’t.”
“… I can do all of that and more Scutt. Are you ready?”
“I am. Please end this life and give me something better.”
“… I will do exactly that.”
Erick put him under with a [Merciful Ether].
And then he turned to Poi, “Oh holy fuck, Poi. My gods. What do I do here?”
Burhendurur said, “He’s not a dragon I would want in my House. That is more than enough answer.” He muttered, “Though you didn’t ask me.”
Poi dropped the mask he had kept up in the face of Scutt. “Wow that guy is fucking depressed. But. Uh. You can’t overwrite his wants. Even if he knows he’s making a bad decision and you know it’s bad and everything here is bad… You have to do the [Reincarnation]. Uh… Make him antifragile and good with numbers and paperwork. Able to find joy in normal life, too. Don’t overdo it, though; that’s almost just as bad— Ah. And Zenipeq is awake and gone. Quilatalap is asking to see your next [Reincarnation].”
While Burhendurur stood straight and attentive again, Poi’s words made Erick feel better about ‘killing 400ish people’ by [Reincarnation]ing Scutt.
“Quilatalap is still in that room?”
“Yes.”
Erick had Quilatalap come through a [Gate], into the new room, and then he began explaining what he was going to do. He did not talk about the moral quandary with Quilatalap, because if Quilatalap said a single word to change his mind, Erick would probably change his mind, even if it was going against Scutt’s wishes. Quilatalap rapidly turned interested as he looked to Scutt, laying on the floor, softly breathing in ether and breathing out thick air.
Burhendurur could not take his eyes off of Quilatalap, though.
… Perhaps it was time to send him back to the House. His opinion was valuable, and he wanted the man to interview these dragons with him, but he was clearly distracted to the point of problems. Erick would tell the man this before the next [Reincarnation].
With a few quick movements of his sunform, Erick had undressed Scutt and laid him back down. He was currently an unassuming male of about 35. Erick had the impression that Scutt had transformed through this same variation of a form for a long, long time.
Erick began.
Scutt’s body began to reshape as Erick worked, and though he stayed within Scutt’s requested parameters, he did make the man healthier than average, and higher Statted then average, and just a little bit better in every possible way. The guy could hate Erick for that if he wished, but Erick wasn’t about to create a guy who couldn’t find some joy in himself, for the man who had been Scutt had clearly not cared about himself at all.
While Erick was doing that, the world also fractured with a thousand prismatic images of possible futures, and Erick saw Scutt in gutter after gutter, or knifing another hobo, or stealing bread from a bakery. Strangely enough, Erick saw no dragons in his future; the magic had already cleaned the Dragon Essence from the man.
Erick still had to pan far through all the bad futures to find a good one, though. And he did.
It was exactly what Scutt had asked for.
Scutt was dressed well. He had a wife and kids and a nice home on the lakeside, and money in the bank. Food on the table, and a little smile on his face. A kid knocked over a vase, breaking it, and Scutt only laughed and [Mend]ed it back to wholeness.
Erick picked that one.
And Scutt solidified.
The reborn Scutt then went through a [Gate], sleeping the whole way, to land on a nice fluffy bed in a nice room in a new [Fairy Stronghold] apartment on Yggdrasil’s boughs. He’d wake up naturally later, at which point Erick would inform him of his new options. He could probably hook up with Enforcement and gain some levels, and then move on with his life. Directly back to Candlepoint? Maybe he could look for a job on Market Street? Probably. He’d be good at those sorts of jobs and that sort of life, Erick thought.
Either way, Erick would be doing the next interview a bit differently. He looked to Burhendurur, and Poi, and Poi knew what Erick was asking. Within a moment, Burhendurur went stiff and then worried—
Quilatalap asked, “So that was all monumentally fascinating. Can I see more?”
“Of course.” Erick added, “You can see the whole thing from start to end. Want to dress up like your previous illusion?”
Quilatalap said, “I can do better than that.”
And then he transformed into a copy of Teressa.
Everything was perfect. From Teressa’s body, to the color of her grey-white soul, to the small white sparkle she had in her eyes these days.
His voice was all wrong, though, as he asked, “What do you think, Boss?”
“… No. Never. No. No impersonation ever, please.” Erick narrowed his eyes. “But how did you get everything right except for the voice?”
“Personal choice,” Quilatalap said in Teressa’s voice. And then he switched back to himself, all the way, speaking in his own voice, “I like my own voice.”
Erick went, “Ahh.”
Burhendurur, who was still stiff, had finally decided to engage his mouth, “Uh. Sir. Do you want me to stay for the rest? I have… Duties to attend to.”
“Quite all right, Burhendurur.” Erick opened a [Gate] for the man back to the House. “I’m sure there will be lots of talking later.”
Burhendurur turned to Quilatalap and bowed deeply, then he walked through the [Gate], and Erick closed it.
“Oh thank the gods.” Quilatalap said, “The Death Dragons all love me a lot but… They can be a lot. Thank you, Erick.”
Erick smiled a little at that. He opened a [Gate] to the next meeting spot. “Onto the next one.” He walked through and Poi followed at his side, while Quilatalap trailed a little. He said to Poi, “I feel I should request an emergency therapist to help sort out the next one, if that same thing should happen again.”
“I will ask for one?”
“Please do so.”
Quilatalap asked, “Was there something wrong with that Scutt guy? Perhaps I can help.”
Erick did really want to bounce what had happened off of someone who had probably seen similar stories, and who wasn’t a dragon with odd sensibilities, and so he told Quilatalap. Quilatalap did not want to answer yet, but he was thankful that Erick had chosen to include him in his thoughts, and yes, it had been a murky decision; he couldn’t have done any better.
“I have found that there is no helping people at the bottom of a barrel that will not end up being self-serving in some way, but there are ways to honor that sort of bottoming out that lead to less destructive actions in the future… Though I am, historically, terrible at making these sorts of decisions.” Quilatalap said, “I feel that you made the right decision to go along with the man’s decision, even if it felt wrong. Going the other way leads to tyranny, and I have been down that route before, too. Never ends up well.”
Erick felt a bit better at that.
He still felt bad about the loss of a dragon. He had essentially just killed around 400 people, according to how the mana needs of Veird saw it—
“I’ve got a therapist lined up, Erick,” Poi said.
Soon, an orangescale woman walked through a [Gate], into the space.
“Hello Mind Mage Gabby. A pleasure to meet you. If you do not mind, today is very busy and I cannot spare the time to fully greet you. I will trust Poi’s judgment that you are qualified.”
Gabby bowed professionally, saying, “I am ready to work, Wizard Flatt. Mister Fulisade has made me aware of what is happening, and I will keep your confidence. In the efforts of full disclosure, though, I will likely be praying to Rozeta for a few of these, though my professional opinion will take precedent over the desires of goddesses.”
“… Ah.” Erick decided, “That’s fine.”
He probably could have asked Rozeta, too, but she had already said her piece and so had all the other gods; by implication, they wanted Benevolence Dragons, but they were leaving it up to Erick to determine the final number.
Gabby bowed again.
Quilatalap looked at Erick, in something like approval.
Poi was Poi; holding back all judgment unless it was needed and wanted.
Erick said, “Onto the next one.”
- - - -
Three dragons turned out to be normal people living in their parts of the world, but while one was a dragonkin-looking citizen from the Wasteland Kingdoms with a family of the same, the other two were basically woodsmen, living off the land and as far away from other people as they could possibly get.
Erick conferred with his people on those three cases, and each time they came back with the same answer: form a contract of some sort, verbal or otherwise, demanding some obeisance to House Benevolence or to himself, and then ask if they wanted to be Benevolence Dragons.
All three jumped at the chance, and readily pledged fealty.
Erick asked the dragonkin-looking dragon from the Wasteland to move to Candlepoint and bring whatever business with him that he could. He happily chose to come to Candlepoint and bring his family with him. Erick was glad for that. The dragonkin man’s case was an odd case, though, because according to everything Erick knew dragons never adopted the form of dragonkin (for a complicated set of reasons, for sure), and yet here was a dragon that broke that usual mold.
Soon, that 60 meter long, dark red dragon became a similarly long rose-quartz-like dragon. Erick gained a pile of red dragon parts for his collection, and a very, very happy dragonkin for Candlepoint. A whole family, too. Erick informed Zolan to help the new guy to fit in somewhere, and then Erick sent the new guy off.
The two woodsmen were an orcol and a harpy.
From them, Erick gained some dragons who wanted to help turn the Crystal Forest back into a real forest, and two more piles of body parts; a pile of green, and a pile of bright magenta.
Nine other dragons just wanted to end it all, just like Scutt.
After confirming their desires and checking for opinions with Gabby and Quilatalap and Poi, Erick gave them all the best futures he could, plucked from webs full of small and large horrors like he was salvaging wreckage from a hurricane-hit house. He sent those new people off to a hidden home in the heights of Yggdrasil, to sleep off their transformation in the same apartment housing as Scutt.
And that was all his meetings for the day.
He had effectively killed anywhere from 2500 to 4000 people, if you counted mana production as ‘people’, which Rozeta and the Script did. Monsters apparently counted for mana production too, though, and who the fuck knew how many monsters Erick had ever killed. Millions, at least.
Fuck, was he deep in the mana hole.
And the Chelation War! Holy shit 4 million dead. 40 million mana per year. Not to mention all the knock on deaths due to disruption of civilization.
Gah!
Hopefully mana wouldn’t become a real problem because of him, but.
Shit…
Erick put those thoughts out of his mind for now. He had another meeting.
As the sun set, and Erick emplaced himself alone in one of his hidden spaces, he called out, “I know you’re there, Fairy Moon. You’ve been poking around this entire day and it’s gotten worse here at the end.”
Fairy Moon stepped out of the air, atop the sunset stone, seeming like a bit of pink and green Springtime had come to Veird. She looked a little cross, but there was no one else in this space for her to play to a crowd; Erick had ensured that. As much as he could, anyway.
Erick said, “You have some problem with me growing my House?”
Fairy Moon’s lips squished together as she eyed him. “Not… Necessarily.”
“What’s the problem, then? Because I’m going to do this a lot more. I have been informed that I’ve got something like 250 dragons or more headed my way as fast as they can get here safely. I’ll be lucky to find maybe 10% of them who still want to be dragons, though. The Curse is worse than I had imagined.”
Fairy Moon still looked perturbed.
“… Just say it, Fairy Moon. Whatever you want to say just say—”
“Convince them to come to Ar’Cosmos.” Fairy Moon said, “I could use the mana.”
“Oh. That reminds me. I want your Wizards. I want to keep them safe from the oddities of Fae Magic.”
Fairy Moon stood taller. She still wasn’t very tall. “I am securing them safe and there is nothing negative about fairy anointings!
Erick breathed out a little, then he said, “Fairy Moon. We are currently alone, I think. I would like some more honesty from you. Why are you demanding dragons exit this existence?” Erick shook his head a little bit, then said, “Why is [Renew] not enough?”
Fairy Moon paused, apprehensive.
Erick wore his concern openly as he asked, “If you need mana, why am I getting 100,000 refugees? What’s going on in Ar’Cosmos, Fairy Moon? For real, too. Illustrious gave me her story, but I want yours.” He wanted to ask after the truth of the Dragon Curse, to know if Fairy Moon had really plotted to either murder every single person in the world, or force Rozeta to expand the Bands of Intent on Elemental Fae to infinity. Had Melemizargo really stepped in and prevented that tragedy? What was the truth of what had happened between Kirginatharp and Idyrvamikor that caused the Curse in the first place? But he did not. None of that really mattered right now. “I want to know how to fix everything I can fix, and if there is some problem happening in Ar’Cosmos, then I want to help fix it.”
Fairy Moon looked at Erick, weighing a thousand things in her ancient mind. And then she said, “I have a list of five dragons who are wonderful, but who threaten stability. Take them into House Benevolence and get them out of my hair.”
“… I want to believe you. So I am going to. But. Fairy Moon. If this is a trick of any sort I will be cross. Me completing this request and it turning out well will go a long way to rebuilding the very fragile relationship between us, if it is an honest request and it will not lead to some potentially Veird-damaging end.” Erick looked at her. “With all that said: Is this still the request you have of me?”
Fairy Moon looked at Erick…
She continued to look at him, weighing thoughts in her mind.
She said, “I have six dragons that I remit to reformation through Benevolence, and four that need not be dragons a day longer. Ten total. The final four you may make of what you wish, but I suggest you sever them from their draconic truth. None of them have done me or mine any devilry but they plot and plunder the goodwill of my green land.” She said, “The destitute dragons you divested of their essence would have made exemplary soldiers for my side, and I wish you wouldn’t have done that. You should have sent them to Ar’Cosmos.”
“Okay.” Erick gestured to the side and conjured some [Fairy Item] chairs and a small table, saying, “Tell me about Ar’Cosmos, and about these troublesome dragons of yours.”
Fairy Moon did.
At the end of it, Erick did not believe that Fairy Moon was trying to pull one over on him. He just felt the weight of it all.
Six Free Dragons that were exemplars of the best the world had to offer. Scions of industry or rulers or professional killers of monsters, in Northern Nelboor and the Greensoil Republic and Archipelago Nergal and the Underworld. They had banded together through intermediaries upon hearing Fairy Moon’s ultimatum. Once they had entered Ar’Cosmos they had met up, and they had begun organizing. They were a threat to the rule of Houses. Ultimately, they would cause a civil war. Not right now. But it was already starting. Lines were being drawn.
Even now those six Free Dragons had managed to collect more support from other dragons, rapidly gaining 6 more votes in the Rotunda, and 4 maybes. The whole Free Dragon faction was falling under their sway, and they would rapidly outnumber the House Dragons within a year.
The Houses needed a way to get rid of these types of dragons without killing them, for that would turn all the Free dragons against them in a very, very quick civil war. Even as it was going, though, the Houses would have to implement drastic reforms that would curb the power of the Free Dragons.
That would just bury the civil war to let it fester and grow until it burst forth in ten or twenty years.
And so, Erick felt a weight. It was probably the weight of a crown.
He could let that draconic civil war happen and pick up the pieces afterward, and lose the support of House Carnage and Death and Fae, as they all decided to split from his own House Benevolence. Or, he could openly support the violent reformation of Ar’Cosmos and lose the other Houses and gain the unorganized Free Dragons. Or, he could try to manage a softer transformation of draconic society, a society he wasn’t actually a part of even though he was a dragon, into something nicer. Which, to be fair, was likely an impossibility. The dragons of Ar’Cosmos were already rather civil in their Rotunda, with their large meetings and the open discussion of problems. In that way, Erick suspected that the people of Ar’Cosmos (or the dragons, anyway) were probably as democratic as a place like Frostflower, where liches ruled above all in their citadel of frozen death.
Still, though, the ‘proper response’ here was to try for some sort of reconciliation between the Free Dragons and the House Dragons.
Except…
Like Erick had experienced with Phagar and the duck pond, Erick might have mostly-unlimited resources, he did not have unlimited space in his life for all these problems.
The sun was far below the horizon by the time Fairy Moon had finished explaining and Erick had finished thinking. She looked at him now, with her pink and green eyes, awaiting his decision.
Erick looked up from the ground, to Fairy Moon, and said, “Make them an offer, and I stress that it is an offer… One moment.” Erick opened a small [Gate] that led to his office. With a quick bit of sunform, he grabbed some paper and a pen, and then closed the [Gate]. “I will attempt to help you with your problem of the Houses losing power by making an offer of asylum to these dragons you deem problematic, but still good people.” He started writing, saying, “The actual offer to them will be in this writing: I, Erick Flatt, Wizard of Benevolence and of newly transformed Draconic Benevolence, do offer asylum from the Fairy Pact and the Dragon Exodus to all qualifying dragons. To those deemed worthy and able to maintain good relations with the people and societies of Veird, I offer transformation to Benevolence Dragon, but I demand a resettlement of those dragons into my kingdoms in the Crystal Forest, where you will receive the opportunities of the Gate Network, and of Candlepoint in raising new lands on the Crystal Forest. Details to follow. Beware those who seek to test my generosity, and who come to me with subterfuge in their souls. Be aware, that just because you will remain a dragon does not mean you will get special treatment from me or mine, or exemptions from the laws of my land.
“To those seeking simply to end the torment of the Dragon Curse, and of Draconic existence entirely, I offer [Reincarnation]s and support to regain a small amount of levels. I can put you anywhere in the world after that, though there will be no further easy contact between you and I.
“[Reincarnation] is much easier to qualify for than a Benevolencing, and I do not care about money or bribes at all. Do not seek to sway me with anything other than your honest words and plans for a better, more cooperative future under the auspices of House Benevolence.” Erick paused his writing, asking, “Will House Fae be okay with doing the organization for this? With presenting me these dragons such that they do not meet or cause a fight? I won’t be going into Ar’Cosmos myself.”
Fairy Moon had looked utterly thrilled. She had been about to suggest that Erick could come to Ar’Cosmos to do all this, too. But then Erick’s final words came down. Fairy Moon lost some of her joy, but she brushed over it, saying, “I had hoped to have for you and with you a feast of coronal celebration for your own rise to king, but we can do that some other season. Yes; the Houses of Ar’Cosmos will organize this ordainment. I assume you will want to ascertain the applicants yourself, before you make of them what you will?”
“Yes— Ah. And these.” Erick opened up another small [Gate] into his office and pulled out a dozen copies of the Rules and Regulations of Cities of Candlepoint, and accompanying city applications. He laid all of that paperwork on Fairy Moon’s side of their small table, saying, “I want the dragons who will think about doing this to think long and hard about how they want to do this. I feel I would prefer them joining existing structures of Candlepoint and otherwise, but they could also try their hands at making some new cities out in the sands, or in the budding greenery I have growing around here. I already have two Benevolence Dragons out there doing just that; transforming the land into green. They’re just woodsmen, though, and they like that. Actual city mayors would be different, and by a lot. Any city of proper size, as outlined in those rules and regulations, will get a seat on the Governor’s Court, and they’ll eventually be helping to make the laws and regulations around here. I’m still king, and of any Benevolence Dragons, I am their overlord above all.”
Fairy Moon smiled gently. She picked up the paperwork, saying, “Most appreciated.”
“I look forward to peaceful transitions, too, Fairy Moon, if we can [Strike] it.”
Fairy Moon smiled brightly. “I look forward to finally seeing family again.” And then she bowed, and was gone.
… Right. That.
Erick simply sat there in that post-sunset space for a little while, thinking. He had made the right call. It certainly felt that way, anyway. It was also supremely disheartening to hear that Fairy Moon was so focused on getting her family back to the detriment of all the rest of the world, but…
Not that surprising, really.
- - - -
Quilatalap stood beside his table in one of his hidden laboratories that he didn’t mind the world finding if they should happen to go looking, and someone was always looking. But he had to do some tests. Erick’s [Reincarnation] was a marvel of necromancy, and yes, he had used an entirely new Element in order to do it, but all the rest of it was well done, too. The Blood Magic, in particular, was imaginative on a level that Quilatalap had rarely ever encountered.
“Not that surprising, in retrospect,” Quilatalap mumbled to himself, as he planted some beans into different pots and then raised them to 2-decimeter-tall flowering things. “He’s been able to search through Blood markers for a very long time, through [Cascade Imaging].”
Which was yet another part of Erick’s magic which Quilatalap wasn’t wholly sure about.
He didn’t know much about light and he didn’t really care; that part of Erick’s [Cascade Imaging] didn’t concern him.
But Quilatalap’s entire Truth was the Truth of Life Unending, with a major focus on fleshy-types of life. He should have understood everything that Erick was doing, flesh-wise, in every single one of his transformations. And so, Quilatalap was here.
Growing plants.
Contrary to the persona he showed to the world, Quilatalap was fully capable of doing plant magics, but that stuff was something he always let lag behind. Therefore, he was ‘not that good at that stuff’. It was a minor lie that he was okay with.
Quilatalap continued to [Grow] small bean plants, as one did for the study to prove that life connected to life in real markers. It was an old study that people usually only read about in very old textbooks, but Quilatalap was older than those textbooks, and there hadn’t been many updates to this methodology in the last thousand years.
Maybe he could figure out what Erick was doing, if he went far enough with this sort of thing.
And so, Quilatalap took tiny bits of pollen from one bean plant and spread that on the flowers of other plants, made them seed, and recorded the results of the progeny. ‘What colors of flowers’ ‘How many leaves till first flower’ ‘What do the combinations reveal about parental history’. These were the sorts of questions Quilatalap was replicating with his replication of this most famous of studies—
He paused.
He looked at his work.
He narrowed his eyes and said to himself, “These facts were first proven by a planar, weren’t they… I had forgotten that.” Quilatalap looked up in thought. “What year was it… 120? 95?”
Damn.
All that original work was long gone. Even if Quilatalap had had copies of those works, all those particular stashes were raided long, long before now.
Fuck.
… Oh well.
Back to the experiment.