Erick checked himself out in the mirror one more time.
Black hair, white eyes save for his black pupils. White robes with black trim. An Ophiel on his left shoulder, Yggdrasil’s eye on his right.
And his horns were not showing.
Good. All the rest of him was acceptable.
The sun was about to set.
The Feast was about to start.
Everyone was already evacuated from the Gate District that needed to be evacuated. Most of the Gates were down; Erick would recast them in the morning. According to Zolan Erick was ‘hemorrhaging gold’ with the Gates down, but Zolan had said that in jest, for it was what it was, and only foolish people shipped on Shadow’s Feast. Too bad there were a lot of foolish people in this world.
A few Gates remained, specifically the ones that linked the House to the kitchens and such which were at another location, in the city of Candlepoint. Erick would be placing the House and the kitchens into an [Expandable Hasted Shelter], separated by Gates, when the time for the actual Feast began at midnight. Hopefully such an ‘air gap’ would allow Erick to evacuate people through those Gates and into a safer location (hopefully the kitchens would be safer) if a fight should break out inside the House itself.
But the House was evacuated of all non-Feast-approved people so any fight that happened here would be contained… Mostly.
Erick mentally went over the list of major guests once more.
The Shades were the big ones.
Lapis, the Shade of Enchantment; dark-skinned human woman, bald, androgynous, muscular, reserved. Soul Mage. Erick wasn’t sure what she had been doing before now, but he suspected it had something to do with the Quiet War. According to Zolan’s research and contacts, Lapis was suspected to have been over in the Wasteland Kingdoms, doing something.
Farix, Shade of Education; blue incani, lithe, perpetually horny. Blood Mage. He was the ‘ruler’ of the refugees of Brightwater over in the former city of Frontier. As of right now, Farix was conducting amicable trade between Spur and New Brightwater due to agreements sorted out before the multi-pronged assault on the Soul Ooze had happened.
Treant, Shade of Forest; orcol man, hates people, wants forgiveness from Treehome for all his crimes against them, unknown Class. Probably a Plant Mage, though. All the ‘Classes’ of every Shade were unknown and nonexistent, technically, but they were all originally people from Veird, and so they did originally have Classes. Even Quilatalap didn’t know Treant’s original Class, for it was possible that Treant became a Shade before he achieved level 50 and got a Class. Of course, the other idea was that he was a Plant Mage, which made a lot of sense.
Queen, Shade of Empire. Incani woman. Pale violet with iridescent highlights. Prismatic Mage, for sure. She had been doing something in Songli, in the aftermath of the Chelation War, to try and make up for her part in expanding the scope of that war to what it had become.
Hollowsaur, Shade of Life. Orcol, male, the original recipient of Erick’s [Blessing of Empathy]. He had been doing something for the last year, somewhere, but Zolan had no idea what, and Erick didn’t know either. Quilatalap had had guesses, but he felt his guesses would have been wrong, so he chose not to voice them.
Goldie, Shade of Counter-Assassination; goldscale dragonkin woman who had been at Erick’s side for the last several months.
And then there was Fallopolis, Shade of Civilization, Culler of Corruption. The only one to not get Empathy’d. Erick had no idea what she had been up to. Hopefully nothing too evil.
And those were all the Shades currently in existence that Erick knew about. Most every Shade in the world had gone to Last Shadow’s Feast, because their god had demanded it, but there were still some holdouts in the world, for sure. Quilatalap just didn’t know of any such holdouts, and neither did anyone else Erick tried asking.
So all the currently known Shades were here, in residence, too, having gotten to the House over the last day and a half, while Erick had been off at war with the Cities. There had been a few incidents in the House since they started showing and moving into the Shade’s Tower, but aside from them poking around at the Gates and Treant trying to talk to Yggdrasil, the only major incident had been when Lapis and Farix appeared to Jane and her team, while they were eating in the atrium...
Erick wished he could have spent more time with Jane, but he had already pulled her into a [Hasted Shelter] and spent several hours decompressing with her, talking about his War with the Cities and her time in the Underworld. Jane had purposefully held back during that conversation, though, because she was more worried about the Feast than about stuff that had already happened, and she wasn’t willing to ‘talk about stuff that didn’t matter right now’. Erick almost chastised her about that, but then Jane turned around and talked to him about how he wasn’t sharing everything that had happened in the Cities, either, and… They’d talk more later. When they could.
… Erick’s thoughts went to the other Feast-goers; the ones from Ar’Cosmos.
Fairy Moon, and Bright Smile.
Erick was worried about those two, but not nearly as worried as he was over his own people joining the Feast.
Volaro, Zolan, and Aisha. All of them were in serious danger from all the powers that would be on display tonight. Erick wasn’t too worried about Aisha, since she was an archmage-level Book Mage, and Volaro was a Carnage Dragon as well as an orcol, but Zolan was just a demi Knowledge Mage.
Mox had originally been tagged to come to the Feast, since she had the most experience of anyone (aside from maybe Aisha) dealing with all the shit that could go down between Shades and others, but Erick needed her outside and in control of the House, alongside Burhendurur. Mox would be dealing with everything out there should something happen inside the Feast barrier, in that hour after midnight when the real Feast would begin. In a similar manner, Burhendurur was out there, along with Poi and Teressa and Jane and Kiri. All of them were outside the Gate District entirely; all of them were ready for anything.
Hopefully nothing too bad would happen.
And if something bad did happen? Well…
Erick turned to the other person in the room with him, currently sitting on the bed. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Quilatalap.”
Quilatalap looked absolutely dashing in his black robes, with sharp white trim. Angular face, bulging muscles, large lower fangs that jutted up from his lower jaw, peaking out of his lips. His black hair looked almost fluffy, but Erick knew from experience it was more stiff than soft. All of Quilatalap was like that, except when he smiled and seemed to both brighten and soften, which he did right now.
“It shouldn’t be as bad as it was last year,” Quilatalap said, turning a bit more serious as he stood up from the bed, to tower over Erick. Both of them looked at the mirror, as the larger man said, “Usually these things are quite tame in the open and since there are no real hiding spots inside the House, then it should remain tame… But then again everything is changing so what do I know?”
Erick smiled softly. “You know a lot, and I’m glad you’re here for this.”
Quilatalap blushed, his green face turning darker. He smiled a little as he said, “Too bad we’re already dressed for the party.”
Erick almost went with the implied suggestion, twisting Time into more time till the party, but the whole night was a cold shower on his emotions. When Erick didn’t instantly go for it, Quilatalap's smile remained, but he did nod, knowingly. Erick turned back to the mirror, looking over himself once more. The mirror was completely superfluous; through Ophiel Erick could already see himself rather well, but old habits made the mirror necessary.
Erick sighed a little bit, allowing himself vulnerability one last time as he glanced up to Quilatalap, saying, “We can have some fun times after the Feast. No time to relax during. Or at least not for me. But you should have fun where you can, for maybe in an attempt to act like this Feast isn’t a big deal, we can make this a ‘non-event’.”
“As one does when around powerful, world changing people and events,” Quilatalap said, nodding. “Do you want me hanging around you like last time? Or closer?”
“Like last time is good. I can’t rely on your power; nor should I. It might be better if we pretend not to be together. Maybe we got in a fight, or something? That way people approach us differently, and we can talk about all the differences afterward.”
Quilatalap smiled. “I can see the merit in that. A small fight? Or a large one?”
“How about we pretend that I needed some space after the war, and that it weighed on me.”
Quilatalap shook his head. “Almost, but saying it that way implies weakness. How about if we pretend that it was too much of a relationship, too fast, and the hatred you got for my presence at your side was more than you expected, and that I’m too politically damaging to be around. You’re now rethinking this thing we have together. Now that’s more true.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Erick’s stomach fell. He turned and looked up at Quilatalap as the taller man’s words sunk in, and then spread like ice through Erick’s veins. “You’re not too politically dangerous at all.”
“But I am, and you’re too enamored to see that. That whole war wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there.”
Was he being serious? They were just planning for subterfuge, right? Or... Had Erick suddenly made a very, very bad mistake in suggesting that they not stand together?
“Wait a moment. This is too much. I was—” Erick waved a hand and enveloped the two of them in a Hasted space. “I’m sorry for suggesting that we pretend not to be together. Let’s forget that whole idea and you and I will walk together the whole Feast.”
Quilatalap chuckled a little. “You’re rather terrible at subterfuge.” And then more seriously, “I’m pretending, Erick, and your idea is a prudent one. Are you really this nervous?”
Okay. Good. Quilatalap was pretending.
Ahh…
Bullet dodged.
Erick breathed out, shuddering as he asked, “Yes. I am this nervous.”
“Then let us stand together, and let the whole world tremble before our union… Though that might be going too far in the other direction.” Quilatalap shrugged. “It’s bad form to lie at our levels of power, anyway, and especially during the Feast.”
Erick stood unsure, saying, “Yes. Bad form to lie during the Feast... or at all, really. Especially at our levels of power.” And then he breathed.
This was whiplash.
Yes. That’s what this feeling was—
“I’ve literally never seen you this unsure, Erick.” Quilatalap asked, “Where’s the guy who walked into Shadow’s Feast last year? Who walked into a war and came out a winner? Who talks to gods like it’s normal?”
Erick chuckled, saying, “Last year I thought I was going to die, and that would be the worst thing to happen. This year… This year the ‘bad end’ is a lot more bad. Existential, bad, and for a lot more people than just me!”
“… Oh.” Quilatalap looked to Erick, really seeing him. “You’re worried about what will happen to everyone else if you fail.”
“Yes! Exactly.”
“If it makes you feel any better…” Quilatalap tried, “You already taught me and many others how [Gate] works, your apprentice knows all of your other magic, you’ve already taught Undertow to that Nirzir girl, and you’ve gotten most of the factions of Veird to play nice for a short while. Even if you die and House Benevolence is torn apart, the ‘Bad End’ of tonight is a merely a delay of several centuries before someone else tries to complete the work you’ve already started. With your creation of Benevolence itself, how many dragons you’ve Benevolenced, with the Benevolence Dungeon, and with all the people you blessed with Benevolence… Someone will rise to try this again, even if you fail. It’s inevitable. If you somehow die —which I won’t let happen, as we’ve discussed. But if the worst should happen then you’ve still shown all the gods new worlds. Now that they know it is possible, and you’ve given them the tools to get it, they’re going to make that happen. All of them.”
Erick’s lips turned up in an unexpected grin. He chuckled once. “Heh… That does make me feel better, somewhat. Thanks, Quilatalap.”
Quilatalap grinned a bit. “Not sure I helped that much at all, but sometimes the perspective of time is useful in its own sort of way.”
“It is.”
For a long moment, Erick stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Quilatalap was right. Even if this whole House Benevolence thing fell apart tonight, Erick had done a lot to ensure that this world would be better tomorrow than it was yesterday. He had spread his knowledge wide. He had put [Renew] and Benevolence into the Script, and into the world. He had gotten many people to sit at the same table, which might prove good for the lessening of future wars, but there was still so much to do—
Suddenly, Erick looked up at Quilatalap in the mirror. “I never told you about my Blood Magic. Do you want to know? Or are you getting places with the microscopes? You said you’re behind on your experiments because of the war, but I could just tell you?”
With a soft, warm smile, Quilatalap said, “I’ll figure it out on my own. Thank you, though.”
“… Okay. Sure.”
Erick breathed.
And then he thought about everything that he had a modicum of control over, before he traced a mental path through the center of it all, starting at now and ending tomorrow morning, crossing through several days of uncertainty in the passing. There was a lot he could prepare for here, at Shadow’s Feast. There was a lot he could do nothing about. There would be a lot of unexpected shit that could and would divert him from making it through the night, but…
Quilatalap was right.
The world of today was fragile, but it was stronger than the world of yesterday.
And tomorrow, even if Erick should vanish, or die, or whatever…
It would be okay, eventually.
And so, Erick stood strong.
- - - -
A few last minute Platforms raced across the land, laden with deliveries that simply had to get through the Gate Network tonight, because the Gates were closing. Burhendurur’s forces watched those Gates for those last minute packages, rapidly checking people through to their destinations. The only thing accomplished in most of those deliveries was a bit of time and money saved, except when it came to the Gates to Stratagold. Those deliveries saved a month of travel, or more. Those deliveries to Stratagold had also been done hours ago, for Stratagold had been the ones to suggest that the Gates close for the Feast, and they had prepared for that ahead of time.
And now, as the sun touched down upon the western horizon, the stars of the New Cosmology began to appear in the distant sky. Closer to Veird, the Nodes and powerlines of the Gate District began to truly glow, looking much like constellations. Those lines of light stood out against the night; a spider’s web too large for any one spider, but smaller than the Wizard in residence was capable of making.
That Wizard hovered in the sky above the Gate District like a second sun, to light the world as the real sun began to dip below, to begin the transition from day to night, on this longest night of the year.
All across the world, in the places that the sun had already set and in the places that were yet to fall to the Dark, people lit bonfires to chase away the night. But the Dark was already present. Melemizargo had always been here. He simply chose to remain in the background, until tonight. This one night a year, Melemizargo, the True God of Magic, unleashed his power across Veird.
The sun did not simply set.
That orb of light and fire was chased away by something much larger and more powerful than a simple sun could ever hope to be.
And then, Darkness.
But the Wizard remained in the sky, a beacon of light above his illuminated House.
The Dark solidified, blotting out the real stars above, turning every source of light upon the land into a distant, weak thing.
Erick gave one last concession to the waning light as he whispered a small happy birthday to a child, still shining brightly to the south like a mountain of green fire; the only other source of light in this land that remained unimpeded. Yggdrasil had turned one year old today, and though Erick had had a small party with the big guy, he couldn’t really focus on that sort of thing right now. Yggdrasil had understood. Erick still promised to make it up to him next year.
Under Dark heavens, Erick moved around the sky of his House like flickering lighting, sweeping counterclockwise in a grand circle, leaving behind rapidly cast wardlights the size of large mansions with each of his eight steps. The first step left behind the world of Yoril, the third rock from the sun, but transformed from barren, airless rock into a land of blue and green, with a massive southern continent and clouds and oceans covering all the rest.
Another lightward appeared in the sky, between lines of Node light, at Erick’s second step. Paal, the fifth planet from the sun, was a rocky thing of a million lakes and one thin ocean, but now, it was not that at all. When the forces of House Benevolence transformed that planet into a living world, it was either a choice between a million lakes, and a waterworld, depending on the level of the ocean decided upon, so Erick went with the version with lakes.
Another step took Erick to another world. This one was completely made of water with barely anything for a rocky core. Erick was almost halfway around the House, now. There were five more steps to go.
And then came another world, and another, and another, and another. And then finally one more, and Erick stood in the sky where he had started.
Erick had filled the sky with hope for new worlds. Real hope. Not the imagined things made by the Shades of last year. There were no worlds where land floated above land, and oceans rolled through skies. These were real worlds; extrapolations of the work of astronomers, made with the best telescopes and the best Sight-based spellworks, and with visions overlaid upon those lands of what could be.
For what would happen.
When Erick was done, eight new worlds hung in the skies over the Gate District, each of them placed equally around the House, each of them slowly spinning in place, showing off what would eventually come to pass.
Erick’s words filled the Gate District,
“There was some confusion over what to call this night; this celebration. For it surely couldn’t be ‘Shadow’s Feast’, for that would imply that the Last Shadow’s Feast was somehow not the last we’ve heard of the destructive Shades, and all the horrors they have caused this world. But ‘Shadow’s Feast’ has a much larger history than the one everyone knows of on Veird, where the God of Magic has been not-himself for a long, hurtful, and terrible time. But still rather short in the grand scheme of things.
“The origins of this festival date back a million years and more, to the time of the Old Cosmology, when the Dark was a force of expansion. Back then, a long line of Gods and Goddesses of Magic, with mantle passed down from worthy to worthy, were the ones who tested those who ventured into the Edge of Existence, to make them stronger or to force them back to the safer spaces, all in an effort to continually expand civilization. This festival is a celebration of that; of achievements won against adversity, and of making civilization a larger, better place.
“This, then, is the true nature of Shadow’s Feast.
“So let us simply name this night in the manner of the older ways, to respect the Dark and the history of a universe gone by. Let us leave last year’s festivities and final naming to the history books, and to something more imaginative than simply affixing ‘Last’ to that particular festival’s name.
“If you can still hear this voice, I hope you are one of the people invited to this party, for if you are not, you should run and hide. Danger abounds in the Dark, and tonight will be the largest test of many of our lives.
“Welcome to Shadow’s Feast.”