The sky above the curtain of wheat lightened from absolute black, to soft blue, and then bright sky. Clouds blew above. Erick stood up.
Just like Wess had said would happen, Erick stood in a patch of golden wheat that surrounded a white pillar about 4 meters tall. The manasphere of the second floor was at 60% density, so Erick’s mana sensing range was only about 10 meters, but with his senses enhanced by his All-Seeing Eye, Erick could still see through all illusions.
The main illusion that caught his eye was the sky. It wasn’t a sky at all. It was a layer of Darkness. The horizon was not blue, but black. There was no Riam in the sky, nor sunstone. It was the same as the sky in Utopia had looked to his All-Seeing senses. Erick tuned his Sight a little bit less, and the illusion of blue sky returned.
Erick turned his attentions back to his near surroundings.
Wess stood ahead. Clarice popped up in the wheat behind Erick.
And the world around them was one of days-old violence. Blood, shit, and bodies crowned the land and piled in the low valleys, baking under a bright sunstone overhead. Rolling plains scattered with fresh and old gore lay in every direction—
Clarice asked, “It occurs to me that the only way that anyone would have thought to come into a dungeon floor to hide out was if they had the information that Wess had pulled up earlier. This means that there was insider information being given to outsiders. So: How?” Clarice asked Wess, “You’ve investigated everyone in the control rooms already?”
Wess grumbled, dissatisfied.
Clarice narrowed her eyes under her silver helm. “Results inconclusive?”
Erick grinned, and held out a hand, palm up, as he readied mana inside his body. “I can answer that one. Someone showed me this ability not too long ago. Traditionally, it’s a way to read the mana in the air, to see what’s happening around you. But because of how the Glittering Depths are set up, this ability actually causes the dungeon to spit out text, as with [Identify]. It’s not that useful in almost all situations, but it does allow for a few fun possibilities.”
Not many people could read the mana like it was a book. Erick hadn’t been able to until Quilatalap had shown him how, when the two of them were at Storm’s Edge and Erick needed a way to check on what a dungeon looked like, at its base. This was Book Magic of a much higher sort than [Identify]; this was Book Magic that was as much aura control as it was [Witness], so it couldn’t really be blocked by a dungeon.
“That’s an incredible vulnerability,” Wess said, frowning. “I can’t believe it even worked before.”
Clarice breathed in a little deeper than normal. “You can do that? [Identify] the dungeon?”
Erick nodded. “The Script codified this spell as [Mana Reading], but it’s really just another form of aura control that is devoid of actual intent.”
Clarice’s reaction was an expected reaction. When Erick had done this earlier around Wess and Kinder, Wess had been wary, and Kinder had cursed about dragons breaking things. This dungeon-reading tool of Quilatalap’s hadn’t done much, though, except for revealing the status of the current area, like Wess had done when he just asked the dungeon to reveal the status of the many copies of the second floor.
This was Erick’s final trick to test out before he needed to just go to a mana chamber and make a proper metamond. It might not even work, but Erick was hoping he would get more than a simple spit-out of statuses, now that he was actually inside one of the Second Floors.
Erick flickered mana under his palm, just letting his aura out, not really doing anything at all. What he had tried to do back at the Workshop was to manually [Cascade Imaging] for people, but that didn’t work; it was too much external magic, into a Reality that was inhospitable for that sort of thing.
But this was just trying to let his mana flow on the natural currents of the air, and to lace that mana with understandable Book.
Mana broke away from his skin in little white glows and managed to make it ten centimeters into the air. That’s when Erick knew the unformed ‘spell’ was working; his aura had matched to the control of the dungeon. Erick couldn’t really do anything at all with this ability, except for asking questions.
Erick smiled. “Please show me the status of this floor, and any invaders.”
It was a [Far Bolt] for that part about ‘invaders’ to work, but Erick tried it anyway, because communication was key in magic and many other places in life.
“That’s an incredible vulnerability,” Wess repeated, frowning, even while the air was populating with text. “I still can’t believe—” And then Wess gasped, as the expected text gained even more entries. “Holy Atunir.”
Second Floor #4, delvers: 7, elapsed time: 1d:6h, estimate to completion: never
Invaders: 17, known major affiliations: Riam, Demon King, Melemizargo, House Benevolence, Ar’Cosmos, Crown of the Host
“Oh! It worked!” Erick smiled, saying, “Someone else is here!”
Clarice breathed out, surprised, then she said, “They must have access to a spell like this, too. But what does that mean? I didn’t know you could do—”
“It’s an unknown vulnerability that we’re already working to close. We find these people now.” Wess waved a hand, a sword appearing in his grip, pointing toward the ground as he spoke with authority, “All available Inquisitors report to the backroads of the Second Floor, instance 4, in preparation for the fleeing of the invaders. Teams Red and Yellow enter the Second Floor, instance 4, and guard the exit. We have found hints of invaders of unknown origins.” With just as much authority, Wess looked to Erick, and asked, “What are the meanings of the other affiliations on that list?”
Erick didn’t care for the accusation in Wess’s voice, but he responded without any anger of his own, “We three qualify as invaders, too, Wess.”
Wess stared hard for a moment. Then he turned back to face the horizon. “14 possible invaders. We are searching now with [True Sight] allied dragons. Inquisitor Wess and team are moving out to the Plains Base.”
Wess turned into an invisible whirlwind and moved.
Erick followed, racing across the land, his feet barely touching the top of a hill before he flew through the sky, low and fast and hidden well, to touch upon the top of another hill half a kilometer away, catching up quickly. He raced alongside Wess, in formation.
Clarice caught up. Her voice whipped away in the wind, as she called to Erick, only five meters away, “You actually are on a Benevolent Path!”
Erick already knew where she was going with this, so he said, “We make our own fate, Clarice.”
They dodged around an encampment of red-robes, moving too fast for their Bracelets of [Hidden Whirlwind]s to hide them properly, but the mages up there weren’t fast enough anyway. The Riamites saw, and they launched balls of lightning at the three whirlwinds, but Erick, Clarice, and Wess were already far beyond them by the time those payloads struck the hill and exploded in flashing red lightning.
Erick looked at the red lightning explosion, muttering, “The fu—”
“Fate is one Element that can’t be fully controlled!” Clarice stared at Erick, with calculation in her amber eyes, half-hidden in the slit of her helmet and by the illusionary wind around her. “And Benevolence isn’t controlled at all. You’re on a Path.”
Erick retorted, “Maybe so! But we make our choices in this life and in all others, Clarice. We’re not on any Path but the one of our own choosing.”
“Tell me if we see a lightning-ringed neck.”
Erick instantly and forcefully said, “If we see one I will protect them with my life until the truth of their markings can be determined.”
Clarice smirked. “And maybe I’ll help you, if you do what I want—”
“We are executing everyone there,” Wess deftly ordered. “Riamites, delvers, everyone. They’re all dying, and the Inquisition is positioned on the top floor to catch whoever might revive up there. No talking. No deliberating. Utter devastation only. Do you understand?”
“That means mostly you, Ashes ‘The Summoner’!” Clarice said, laughing brightly, as they hopped across another low canyon filled with gore, and across a hilltop blasted clean of all grass. “It’ll be like that fourth floor you never got to, but different! Don’t worry! We’ll protect you while you charge your staff!”
Clarice laughed again.
But Erick ignored her, and said, “I’ll be wanting a conversation with them when you capture them, Wess.”
“It’ll be arranged how the people above us decide to arrange it.”
Erick couldn’t fault that too much.
And besides, they were here.
- - - -
The Plains Base was exactly as Erick remembered.
It was a stretch of land the size of a small city that had been filled with farmlands and apartment buildings and other such structures here and there. Now, it burned brightly under daylight, while smoldering craters marred everything, and every third building crumbled under infernos. Fortifications were little more than scattered stone, while the only truly-intact building stood tall, with massive red tabards unfurled down its sides, flapping in the wind. The fight was over. Warriors prowled the grounds, excavating hiding holes, looking for people, while mages hovered in the sky, surrounded by bubbles of force, providing ultimate air support.
There were people down there, in those fortified parts of the base who could be rescued for more of a final floor reward, or for more resources to use to make metamonds. Erick hadn’t interacted with them last time, because Kinder had pulled him out of the dungeon before he could interact with those places.
Which had implications, now that Erick thought of it.
But there was a need to interact with those places now.
The infiltrators might be down there in those hiding holes, holding out with supplies meant to keep the NPCs down there alive. It’s what Erick would do, if he had to hide out in this place, or anywhere like it.
Still, though, there was no need to go in and fight to clear away the Riamites. Fighting was not what archmages and Wizards did. They did a lot worse.
Erick stood upon a hill overlooking the battlefield of a land lost to time, and the Sundering.
He raised his staff, the prismatic white gem at the top glowing with an inner lightning…
He had been about to set that gem against his shoulder, and take aim. But… The staff was more than what it had been before its transformation. So Erick let the staff go, to float, not sure exactly what he was doing, but he knew he was doing the right thing as the not-gold staff hovered in the air right over his shoulder, and then took aim automatically.
Erick and his temporary team had stepped onto this overlooking hill two seconds ago. And now, his staff pointed the way forward.
Erick breathed.
He spoke,
“Eradicate.”
The entire length of the not-gold staff turned brilliant, molten, as power charged, and then sunk into the gem at the top. Gold solidified, dulling, then the forgotten runes and unknown words upon the staff’s length crackled with white lightning. The staff jerked, the tip pointing at the nearest mage in a bubble, maybe a kilometer away. White light flickered at the tip—
And the mage exploded into a shower of white lightning that arced through the sky and danced across the ground erratically, exploding three more people in smaller showers of lightning sparks.
Gold light flickered with every death, turning to a mist that flowed in the sky, toward Erick, toward the staff, vanishing long before it reached the staff, and yet, the staff began to take on a brighter gold brilliance. Barely, just a little. Some of the power of those deaths empowered the staff.
The gem at the top was already as bright as a second sun, laced with dark lines of metal that held it to the staff underneath—
The staff jerked, repositioning instantly, as it took aim at another floating mage. It fired.
Lightning killed several people. More gold flowed into the air, like dust.
The staff shot again, then again, again, again. Four more invisible shots silently sparked from the end of the staff, killing tens of Riamites each.
Only five seconds had passed. The counterattack began.
It was not enough.
Lightning struck exactly who it was meant to strike, and then bounced to exactly who it was meant to kill with little collateral damage. A trickle of golden dust turned into streamers, into a flow.
The counterattack came in full, Erick pulling ‘aggro’ on the entire base, as Jane would say, with Riamites storming out of their own hiding holes, filling the field with more targets. The killing came faster and faster, until the staff was spitting out dots of power that blossomed across fields of enemies, reaping tens of lives with each Bolt.
The Riamite assassins, clad in black and hidden in the wind and shadow, attempted to attack. They only made it to the next hill over, and only because some speedy mages got behind a hill and tried to approach first. The staff killed those mages, and then it killed the assassins in the shadows.
The staff shone brilliant gold, even brighter than it had been before, while the gem retained its own light—
The air sparked.
The staff shot out pure lightning, thick as a person, directly into a contingent of men, eradicating them, before it turned its attention to the roaring abomination that had crawled out of the main structure. Lightning blasted apart that abomination—
SPECIAL ACTION! PLAINS RECLAIMED! MP up!
+5000 mana production per day!
Erick barely had time to see the message before the staff turned around, blinked high into the sky, and lightning crashed down far, far away, like the judgment of a god.
As golden power flowed into the sky, the staff let out another blast of lightning, and then ten more, each bolt of power landing exactly where it needed to land, and no more. Messages suddenly appeared in Erick’s face one after the other.
Camp Cleared!
Push back Riam’s abominable forces. 1/4
MP up! +1000 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 1/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 2/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 3/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Camp Cleared!
Push back Riam’s abominable forces. 2/4
MP up! +1000 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 4/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Camp Cleared!
Push back Riam’s abominable forces. 3/4
MP up! +1000 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 5/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 6/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Rescue and Revenge, 7/??
The more you fight, the larger your challenges and the greater your rewards.
MP up! +500 mana production per day!
Camp Cleared!
Push back Riam’s abominable forces. 4/4
MP up! +1000 mana production per day!
FLOOR TWO COMPLETE!
NOTICE: You have already cleared Floor Two. Mana Production for repeated floor clears is capped at 100,000 mana. Delve the Endless Depths if you wish for more mana than that, and if you wish for actual mana regeneration that carries over to Veird and elsewhere!
Erick’s Status came to him unbidden.
- -
Ashes Woodfield (9 saves remaining)
Health: 5000/5000
MP per day: 35,000
Meta-Irons: 4650, 92 in storage
Meta-Diamonds: 10/10, 837 in storage
Rod of the Lightning Guardian, 1000/1000
Staff of Divine Absolution, 2500/2500
Breastplate of Absolute Damage and Regenerative Health, 250/250
Bracelet of [Hidden Whirlwind], 100/100
Bracelet of [Self Rejuvenation], 100/100
All-Seeing Eye, 500/500
Ring of [Identify], 50/50
Belt of Many Functions, [Blessed Memory], [Eternal Benediction], [Benediction of the Unseen], 50/50, 50/50, 50/50
Unused Meta-Irons:
Unused Meta-Diamonds:
- -
Erick looked to his side, where the Staff of Divine Absolution hovered point down, right within gripping range. So that’s what Erick did, wrapping his hand around the sparking runes of gold and white. Clarice gave a small warning noise as Erick did that, completely unintentional and worried for the sake of being worried, while Wess struggled to maintain his composure. The staff was completely undeserving of that sort of worry, though. Erick put his hand around it more firmly. It was warm to his touch.
Erick said to the staff, “You did very well.”
The staff vibrated a little in what Erick could only assume was joy.
“I need to give you a name, though. Unless you have one you’d like to be called?”
The staff went inert.
… Erick hummed. “Not yet, then? Unsure? Or you don’t care?”
The staff was inert.
Erick gripped it tight, and said, “You did good. We’ll talk more later.” Erick looked to Wess, and asked, “Did anyone come out of grasslands?— Oh shit. They could just exit to floor 3? Will the exit appear to them? I didn’t even consider that.”
Clarice was having a moment, and could not contribute to the conversation right now.
She had once described the culmination of Floor Four to Erick as ‘holding out until the Summoner called down light across the entire battlefield and killed everything’, so that, combined with what she already thought of when she thought of Ashes, was giving her some pause.
Erick would get to that later.
Wess rapidly reoriented. “No. It’s a lot better than that. They can take the exit if they desire, for it will appear to whoever is on the floor and wishes to exit, but they’ll end up in the white room, and we’ve got that place locked down. They won’t take it, though, because they know they’ll be trapped.” He looked to the air, and said, “If Dungeon Master Kinder knows what he is doing, he will already be encouraging the actual delvers to escape so we don’t have to worry—”
A message appeared to Wess; Erick had to read it backwards.
Floor cleared of delvers.
“Us and the intruders are now the only people on this floor,” Wess said, “We proceed.”
Clarice rapidly said, “We’re going to the fifth floor after this.”
“When we can, Clarice.” Erick moved on, “I never explored the Plains Base. Is there a hidden place with supplies where a group of knowledgeable people could hide out for a while?”
“My team didn’t fight the Riamites,” Clarice said, “We escaped to the Mountain; I’ve never been—”
100 meters left of the main building, cellar, hidden by illusions. It’s a secret place for delvers to find if they’re brave or sneaky enough. We just looked there, and they’re in there. They know you’re coming. We’ve tracked their delver names, now, so we know who they are. We can track them anywhere, now.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
It is not necessary to fight them. I am attempting to have them leave peacefully, now that there is nowhere for them to escape.
One moment, please.
Clarice read the air. “… That’s almost anti-climactic.”
“Better this way,” Wess said, breathing out in relief. “Never know when a takedown can go bad.”
Clarice smirked.
Erick said, “I want to speak to all of them.”
Wess frowned, and said, “The Viridian Throne and House Benevolence will have to come to an agreement about that before—”
A column of black light, rimmed in white and extending from the Plains Base into the sky far, far to the right, simply appeared where Inquisitor Wess had been, like someone had drawn a line of darkness across the world. And then the black light passed.
Wess’s legs fell to the ground—
To the left, toward the targets, the black world was rimmed in blue, the beam frozen by the power of the dungeon before it could kill Erick, too.
Messages scrawled through the air.
Ashes Woodfield (8 saves remaining)
Ashes Woodfield (7 saves remaining)
Ashes Woodfield (6 saves remaining)
Ashes Woodfield (5 saves remaining)
Ashes Woodfield (4 saves remaining)
Ashes Woodfield (3 saves remaining)
That’s as far as the messages got before Erick tore at the world with Time Magic, reversing course, spending almost all the mana in his core in order to [Return].
He would not be able to do that again.
- - - -
Clarice read the air. “… That’s almost anti-climactic—”
“Everyone DOWN, now!” Erick shouted, turning to air and vanishing down the side of the hill.
Wess and Clarice rapidly reoriented, with Clarice acting barely faster than the Inquisitor, both of them rushing down the hill toward Erick.
Erick kept going, saying, “I don’t know. Don’t ask questions right now. They saw us, and we were fucked if we stayed on that hill. They have some sort of obliterating darklight spell that—”
The three of them were down between the wide hills, hidden from sight from the base. That didn’t protect them as much as Erick thought it would. His words tore away from him as a spear of absolute darkness cleaved across the Plains Base, carving through buildings and hillsides alike—
And then Clarice was there, her right hand filled with fractal geometry, her power aimed at the cleaving beam, scattering power up and down in a great shielding. Her shield held more than enough to protect all three of them, but the beam still hit everywhere else in a sweeping arc. Buildings and hillsides collapsed. The ground underfoot was less than solid, and hunks of the sky were suddenly missing; black holes punched through the blue eternity.
“Scatter takedown,” Wess said, and then he moved.
Clarice followed Wess.
Erick went in the opposite direction, wind carrying him far as he hoped he was reading his fellows correctly. He would do better sniping, anyway. With two quick leaps, Erick passed by scorched stone and fields, where fire still burned and red-tabarded bodies lay broken by lightning, while uncountable civilians lay dead and decayed for days, their own lives extinguished by Riamite spells and weapons.
Buildings continued to fall all around in the aftermath of the black beam attack, but Erick scaled one anyway, rushing up the side of a tilting stone structure, his gold staff brimming with power, marking him as a beacon to attack, for sure. Erick could survive the black beam for at least a few seconds. How come Wess couldn’t? Did he only have a few Saves left? Wess must have thought 3 or 4 saves would be enough—
Darkness glittered atop one of the four lookout towers, atop the main base of the Plains, where red flags had been draped down all four sides. That black light grew, and then fractured the world. A meter-thick beam of black light came right for Erick.
Erick moved off the side of the crumbling building, wind carrying him fast as blacklight erased the world behind him, following almost as fast as he could move. It would have caught up to him if he kept going in one direction, but he could move in more ways than just in a straight line. Erick pushed off the very air itself, wind and light and shadow carrying him where he wanted to go; straight up. And then back. The line of black seemed to have some lag to it, like it was a stream of particles and the person aiming it couldn’t reorient fast enough to stay ahead of Erick.
It was enough of a lag that Erick could see who was attacking him.
Erick glanced to the tower.
Fyuri.
Pale skin, almost white. Red lips, bright as fresh blood. Amber eyes, glowing like a sun, but with black pupils that held more darkness in them than Ashes had ever known before she came into his life. Fyuri had a black staff in her hands and black armor on her body, and a wicked smile on her face, showing off fangs as sharp as knives—
The black beam almost caught up to Ashes, annihilation tickling at his toes.
And then Erick moved again, repositioning just as much as he was recoiling mentally. What the fuck had that been? Something had happened.
No time to think about it.
Erick danced across the Plains Base, annihilation carving away the world underfoot. That black death ended as Erick stood upon the waters of the steaming lake, as that lake drained away into the floor below, or into whatever destruction Fyuri had wrought. Whatever was going on with that black staff it was surely akin to Erick’s own Staff of Divine Absolution, and Fyuri was surely just pretending to have run out of ammo.
Erick glanced back at the tower—
The hillside to the right erupted with blacklight—
Erick dodged up and left, and then kept dodging, wind carrying him out of danger while Fyuri attempted to strike from some spot where he couldn’t see. Briefly, Ashes wondered how Fyuri had seen him when she had been on the other side of the hill, but she was a being of shadow and sight, and so seeing around corners would be easy for her. She could attack from anywhere at all. She probably had one of his own Bracelets of [Hidden Whirlwind], too, so she was good on movement.
Ashes needed to go on the offensive.
He could see from anywhere, too, if he wanted.
The battle so far had been about 25 seconds long. It might go a lot longer, or a lot shorter, if Fyuri decided to attack the others. But at a glance, and straining his All-Seeing Eye a fraction, Ashes saw through the false world that was the bunker, down near the side of the main Plains Base structure. The ground had been ripped up completely, and Clarice and Wess had moved on to fighting people underground, while—
From the other side of the base came another beam of black, aiming right for Ashes, burning away the world in its wake.
Erick would have aimed a few Bolts at the other invaders, to help Clarice and Wess kill the enemies without worry, but they were underground and Ashes was too focused on his own personal demons.
Ashes ripped through the sky, twisting left and right, dodging much more than necessary—
Ashes whipped around his staff and took aim at Fyuri from across the sky. The remains of a crater still separated him and his former wife, but in an eternal moment, he crested that crater, momentum carrying him upward. They locked eyes. Smoldering flames in the crater lit Fyuri from the back, highlighting her curves, and her arms. He was already aiming at her. She was already aiming at him, her black staff trailing darkness through the air, that darkness slowly catching up to Ashes.
She looked down the barrel of her bolter at Ashes.
Ashes looked down the barrel of his bolter at Fyuri.
She mouthed, ‘I will always love you, Ashes.’
Ashes's heart beat hard. He fired.
His aim was off. His target indistinct.
A Bolt of absolute power ripped out of the tip of his golden staff and curled around the blacklight, rushing down its length and striking the black staff. Fyuri had already abandoned the weapon, turning to darkness and wind to escape. The black bolter exploded in fractals of destruction. Ashes dodged the explosion, falling back hard.
By the time he got back to the crater...
Fyuri was gone.
- - - -
In the minutes and hours that followed, Erick went over what had happened several times, trying to figure out what had gone wrong, and where. He also stood watch over a makeshift detention center that the Inquisition had thrown together on the entrance floor, to interrogate everyone that had respawned here on the top floor. The Inquisition didn’t want to let anyone onto Veird just yet, because who knew what sort of powers they had out there, while here, in the dungeon, all their meta-items had been taken away or destroyed, so Fyuri’s conspirators were weak as kittens.
Not everyone respawned up here.
Of the expected 14 people, only 9 had appeared. One of those missing people was Fyuri, who had gotten away completely. Four others were also missing, which meant that they either died true deaths, which was not likely, or they respawned in the golden fields of Utopia, which was almost certainly what had happened. That meant that those 4 people were natives of Utopia, who had yet to complete the dungeon course that natives went through to be allowed to travel to Veird.
All this time, Wess had been doing his job as Inquisitor, talking to people, with Erick standing in the background along with others, watching over those talks. No one had spoken to Erick about anything, though, because everyone knew that Wess would be doing that soon enough.
Eventually, the initial interviews were done.
Wess took Erick aside, and Erick went willingly.
In a small room far away from the detention center, Wess sat down with Erick in a side room that was not monitored by others. Clarice had gone home to Utopia hours ago, with the clear understanding between her and Erick that they would get together later for more dungeon delving. So for now, it was just Wess and Erick.
Wess asked, “Did you not have a clear shot on that woman, and you took what you could get? Or did you miss on purpose?”
A lot of things had come out during the interrogations, from the capabilities of the black staff woman, to names and places and people that were of more interest to the Inquisition, than to Erick. Erick hadn’t said a damned word the whole time, and no one had asked him anything more than cursory questions. But now that Wess had actually asked a direct question, and Erick remained silent, that silence spoke volumes loud enough for Wess to put many different puzzle pieces together, especially when all of the detainees had called their captain ‘Shadowclaw’. ‘Shadowclaw’ was a stupid name, Erick almost said. Her name was Fyuri, and she was a menace.
Erick decided to say, “I’m still not sure what happened there. I was shooting to kill, and then I flinched.”
“You didn’t miss at all when the suspects fled out of their base.” Wess lightly stared. “You struck and killed each person, instantly and without missing once.”
“Yup.”
“… So you know that woman. This ‘Shadowclaw’.” Wess didn’t need an answer to that. He continued, “Will you be assisting us with her capture?”
“I’ll be moving on my own now, Wess, and I will be moving to capture her. I need to make a few new things to deal with her, and I need to talk to others. I will keep you informed.”
“Did she have a lightning ring around her neck?”
“No,” Erick said, thankful that he could answer that one, without lying.
“Who is she?”
Perhaps Erick was too angry as he said, “You already know who she is. You’ve known this whole time, but you’re the one who kept her name away from me. You’re the one who fiddled with the reports that the Throne handed over to House Benevolence. I’m not even that mad.” Erick said, “You did that because you thought I’d be compromised. But the only reason I missed, Wess, was because I wasn’t aware who, exactly, we were hunting. I was surprised. I will not be surprised again.”
“We weren’t exactly sure of anything. And we don’t actually know who she is, Ashes.”
“… Well maybe you’re not lying, but only because you weren’t told either.”
“So help me to know who she is,” Wess said, trying to keep his demeanor on an even keel.
“Her name is known to me as one thing, of which I will not be releasing out into the world, since it is her True Name; the one she was given when she was born on Riam, oh so long ago. Maybe that’s why her name wasn’t in the files; because to know it is to spread a memetic hazard and to awaken even more of those evils.” Erick said, “Shadowclaw is a fine thing to call her.”
Wess scowled lightly, trying not to show too much emotion.
Erick said, “I’ll ask Erick to [Cascade Imaging] for the woman out in the rest of the world, if you would allow him to use that spell on Greensoil. He might be able to use that spell in here, in this dungeon. But I’m not sure about that.”
“… I’ll move that question up the line. I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow. Will you be staying here in the dungeon?”
“I’m going to see one person, and when you’re watching me from the control room, you’re going to give me an hour before you confront them.”
“… We’ll give you the length of one conversation, in one location.”
Erick stood, saying, “Good enough.”
And then he left.
- - - -
Erick rested on a couch, one arm on the armrest, the other on the back. His staff floated to the side, looking like a spike of runed and subtly glowing gold. Or maybe the reflection was just of a golden wheat field on a particularly bright day. Hard to say. Since that ‘Eradicate’, it seemed even more gold than it had any right to be—
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside the room. She was unarmed, and unarmored. Not a single meta-artifact held to her body. She wore a shapely, if comfortable blue dress atop a white tunic with full sleeves, while her boots were more made for kicking around in the mud. They were clothes that one might expect to be arrested in, to allow oneself to be comfortable for what was to come. Her skin was pale, while her hair and eyes were so dark brown, they looked almost black. So that was different. Her eyes had been golden last time, and now they were brown. Her lips were the same shade of blood red, though.
The seriousness of her face was the same as Ashes had seen many, many times before.
Rebecca closed the door behind her, asking, “Do we have time to talk?”
“Enough, and then the Inquisitors will be coming here.”
Rebecca sat down on the other couch, across from him. “I’m not her.”
“No. You’re not.” Erick said, “And I’m not Ashes.”
Rebecca said, “I heard she escaped. We already have people looking for her. It will be difficult for me to coordinate that search, now that I’m to be detained.”
“You know your True Name already, don’t you.”
“I do. I learned it last time the nobility of Greensoil sought to use an awakened NPC copy of myself in order to achieve up there what I have achieved down here…” Rebecca asked, “This information is Sealed by the Viridian Throne, you know, but it’s coming out again… I’m not even sure if the Inquisitors truly know what they’re going after. I assume she’s already escaped the dungeon completely. Gone off to other places… I know not where. But her lackeys remain. We’ll capture them. Turn them over to the Throne, as we did last time… Along with the other Fyuri who also went bad.”
“Why do you think you didn’t ‘go bad’?”
It was a loaded question.
Rebecca recognized that.
She began, “A shadowcat escaped the first floor several years ago, back when the Iron Bandits were less than they were today. That shadowcat saw the full breadth of the horrors of Riam, and how those horrors had been turned into amusement and training by the people of this world.” Rebecca said, “I saw the utter death of Riam, and how Atunir won. And I thought myself one of the good people. I lived here in Utopia for a while, growing accustomed to my human body and accustomed to the Iron Bandits. I spent half a decade as ‘Rebecca’ and all of that time making the Iron Bandits into a true force. And then 15 months ago, Tuilo Manfield, the scion of House Manfield, discovered who I was patterned after. He grabbed that shadowcat off the first floor and dragged them through to Utopia, and then he inflicted upon her their True Name, through the use of a Name Finder artifact that they made… Or found. We’re not sure.
“That Fyuri went on to become a force for the Manfields, the Chesterfields, the Waterroads, the Adamsmiths, and the Farfields. It was a coalition of powers. And then, for completely understandable reasons since Fyuri is a witch and a horror, Fyuri tried to carve out her own place of power in Greendale by stealing faces and otherwise. This was too much. The nobles who had raised her up turned her in.
“And I helped to eradicate all of her tendrils of power she had wormed into the land down here, while those nobles did the same to her powers up there. Fyuri made a lot of mistakes, so it was easy enough to find out what she had done wrong, and especially because she had 5 noble families all turn on her.
“But Tuilo Manfield and his plans for domination of some sort remained. I was never made aware of those full plans, but the Throne knows.” Rebecca said, “Tuilo Manfield captured another shadowcat, and this time, I can only assume that she instantly realized what those five families had done to her previous incarnation. So she played along until she could kill them all, which is exactly what she did.
“I have already told all of these suspicions to the Viridian Throne. That you are here, now, asking me these questions, shows that these suspicions of mine have proven true.”
Rebecca went silent.
Ashes asked, “When you first saw me, did you know me?”
“In the way one recognizes a dream walking around in front of them.”
“When did you learn of your own True Name?”
“In the dismantling of the first Fyuri’s power.”
“Who did you kill when you Awakened?”
“… A baker who maligned me with an improperly frosted cake. A schoolgirl who got mud on my shoes. A young woman who had eyes on Tom.” Rebecca said, “Two NPCs who didn’t matter. The woman respawned on the entrance floor. These days I kill anyone who dislikes my rule, but they always end up on the entrance floor. I’m not actually killing people… Not really.”
“Do you want that impetus removed? I can get the Wizard to [Reincarnation] you.”
“That’s one solution to your fears of me, but I have mastered myself in the years before I knew my name as Fyuri. I don’t need, nor want, someone else to decide my disposition. Besides, if I did take that option then I couldn’t be in power down here, for I am a hidden Inquisitor of the Viridian Throne. I assume that position will be revoked from me after this recent proof that a Fyuri was behind all these demonic murders.” Fyuri said, “It was good to meet you again, though, Ashes. I never thought that would ever happen.”
Ashes just stared, trying to understand his own emotions in that moment.
Fyuri said, “I wasn’t aware that you went on to become the Summoner until recently, but I knew you had that sort of power in you, so it’s not that surprising in retrospect, here, ten thousand lifetimes removed from that ancient past.” She chuckled; a forlorn sound. “I suppose you ‘summon’ a Wizard these days instead of a god. Fitting, considering the lesser nature of our current reality.”
Ashes did his damnedest to ignore that attempt at connecting. He ignored his own impetus to just murder Fyuri and rip apart her soul so she couldn’t revive at all.
He moved on, “The other Fyuri got her black staff from a Summoner. She saw me come in here, and she went and got one from the Summoner. And then she did whatever she wanted with it. Maybe she even grabbed ‘The Summoner’ out of floor four, or five.”
“Possible, but unlikely. The Summoner doesn’t move and will kill anyone who tries to take him off his floor. But then again, she knew your name, and therefore she knew the Summoner’s True Name.” Fyuri said, “I still feel some loving impetus with you right now, but I know for a fact that if roles were reversed, and I had you in my complete power, I would kill you or torture you or do any number of other, horrible things, to make you mine in truth. Maybe we could even have kids this time. Riam doesn’t exist anymore, after all. No more would my family keep you down. No more family telling me I can’t have you exactly how I want you. No more High Councils holding us back. You always wanted to be a stay-at-home dad, didn’t you? I would have made that happen.”
“I did want that, in some sort of way,” Ashes said. “But you would destroy the world to make it again in your desired shape. And I wanted that threat to end more than I wanted a life with you.”
Fyuri’s breath hitched.
An affectation? Or truth? Impossible to know which, or why.
Fyuri collected herself.
“And that is why I am down here, in the Glittering Depths, limiting myself.” Fyuri said, “I believe in [Reincarnation]. I have hope in Xoat Reborn, to be able to change me into something better. But… I’ll have to take a delay on that option right now.” Fyuri breathed in, her gold eyes transforming back to black. Erick had no idea when they had become gold, but now they were black again. Rebecca said, “I do hope that the option for [Reincarnation] will remain open, if the Viridian Throne releases me back to this land.”
“The option will not ‘remain’. It will be enforced.”
Rebecca softly smiled. “That works, too. When you tell Xoat Reborn of all of this, I ask you to bring up the option of him creating a Name Finder, and [Reincarnation]ing every other Riamite, as well. They deserve second chances, for most of them were just soldiers, doing jobs, caught up in Riam’s propaganda machines, and they deserve to know their full histories before they’re changed into new people.”
Erick nodded once.
And then Erick left, opening the door to find a crowd of Inquisitors waiting in the hall. Erick moved out, and those men and women in green armor and suits moved in, to easily capture Rebecca, for she did not resist at all. Erick didn’t watch beyond that. He was already half gone out of the building, but he didn’t manage to fully escape before another confrontation appeared.
For Wess was waiting at the entrance to the Iron Bandits company house. The green-armored Inquisitor said, “It appears I was not allowed to be aware of a great many things.”
“Me either.” Erick asked, “Have you found Shadowclaw?”
“Not yet. But we have a great deal more information now. The Viridian Throne thanks House Benevolence for their assistance. The Wizard is allowed to Image for whoever he wishes to image for, for the next week. Please inform us of any hits on the Scan, either in here, or out there on Greensoil.”
Erick nodded. “Rebecca is getting [Reincarnation]ed.”
Wess’s lips pinched a little, almost saying something against Erick’s commandment—
Erick walked away.
“I didn’t know she was an Inquisitor,” Wess said, to Erick’s back. “I didn’t know any of that.”
Erick waved a little, dismissive.
He kept walking.
- - - -
“I have a philosophical question, Poi,” Erick said, as he sipped a beer and watched the sunset from his cloud castle.
Poi sipped his beer beside Erick, waiting.
“It’s come up before, and it’ll come up again, but… If you know someone is manipulating you through their words in order to achieve a goal that is not awful, and you can find no fault with their words no matter how much you tumble them around in your mind… Is it okay to be manipulated? Or do you rebel, just because you can? Just because you hate the person saying those words?”
“Finding no fault means that their words are sound, and they should be heeded, no matter how distasteful the person speaking those words.”
“… Yeah.” Erick sighed. “That’s the decision I’ve always made before, but this time feels different. Worse.”
Poi nodded, knowingly.
Erick continued, “In less philosophical talk: So Greensoil is going to use Fyuri and the Summoner that Fyuri managed to Awaken in order to make some megaweapons... If they can find her, and if she agrees to work for them. Which she will. But it’s more likely that they’ll just try to Awaken a different Summoner… Or maybe they already have, and that’s failed for whatever reasons. Or maybe it succeeded. Whatever has happened there has only happened in order for Greensoil to gain more power. That’s why they kept Odaari around, too.”
“The tyrant humans and point-bought archmages of Greensoil aren’t like the natural-born and actually-talented powers of this world. Those humans have to steal and coerce their power out of the Dark, or through other sources.” Poi said, “Not like it really matters, though. They already have megaweapons, and they’ll have more and more as time goes on. But we have you. And Kirginatharp. Bright Smile. Quilatalap. The Geodes. Wizard Destiny. That’s not counting the gods that also ensure this world remains intact. The list goes on.”
“… I still don’t like it.” Erick sighed. “But I won’t be a tyrant, either.”
“Dinner won’t be ready for a while.” Poi asked, “Want another beer?”
“… Actually, I want to talk about the full breadth of the dungeon and what it means to have memories that are not my own… Not to the therapist. Gabby is not someone I want involved with this right now.” Erick looked to Poi. “I would have your opinion on the matter.”
Years ago, Erick had requested a Mind Mage therapist to help with consultations for dragons, during the Dragon Exodus, to untangle true desires from those who were being forced to undergo a transformation of [Reincarnation] or Benevolencing, against their wills. These days, Mind Mage Gabby was among those who interviewed those who were on the [Reincarnation] list, to help sort them out before Erick got to them, on his [Reincarnation] days. Gabby was also the therapist whom Erick saw every now and then.
Poi set his beer down. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Gabby?”
“I’m sure.”
Poi breathed in, then began, “Every person has a personal mind slime that composes their entire mental being, and which interacts with the world around them in a myriad of ways. One of these ways which most people are most familiar with, is the creation of magic through the interactions of mind, mana, and intent. Other ways of interacting include the touching of another’s mind, and the exchange of information. This second one is what we focus on right now, because memories exist in the mana, just as much as they exist in other people. It all bleeds together.
“And that’s the concept called ‘mind bleed’.
“A young Mind Mage, just awakening to the fact that they experience the world differently than other people, soon becomes aware that they are stealing and copying the mental impressions left by others all around them; living memories, or memories in the mana, that people can see with Meditation. Mind Mages live tens of lives by the time they reach ten years old; more in a large city, less in a rural location.
“It can be a struggle to learn to control oneself, to not be influenced by others, but we all manage it eventually, because we’re all found out by other, more experienced Mind Mages, who teach us, or we learn control on our own.
“There are memories in the mana, like I said. And inside that dungeon, you found a memory in the mana that resonated with you.” Poi said, “You’re probably going to find a lot more, Erick, because you’re a Paradox Wizard, who has already met yourself in the mana, long before today.
“So I’ll give you the same sets of advice that I was given, and that other Mind Mages have given younglings many, many times:
“Become the solid wall in order to control your personal world, or the worlds of others will control you.
“Or:
“Become the tree, taking in good knowledge and letting the bad go, while growing as much as you desire to grow.
“Or:
“Accept everything, and become the perfect gestalt of the world around you.”
For a moment, Erick thought. “It has to be the second option, right?”
Poi shrugged. “Every path can be successful.”
“… Really?”
“Yes.” Poi said, “For us Mind Mages, those who choose to become the Wall are those who choose to abandon their gifts of mindsight in favor of becoming themselves, and only themselves. These people become like a mental version of the Class Juggernaut; able to stand up to the storm of mental monsters and memetic threats and come out completely unscratched.
“Most of us choose to become the Tree; to judge what we see and to take in what we wish. Sometimes, that choice of being a Tree eventually morphs into being the Wall, when we’ve taken in all we wish to take, or that choice might morph into becoming a Gestalt, because we see the world, and we desire to be as much a part of the world as possible.
“The Gestalt is a rarer path, but it is the path of those who accept everyone and who can connect with anyone. This is the path for those who desire to become one with the world, and those people are whom the Crossing is based upon. Every single Ascendant Mind is a Gestalt.
“All paths are valid. The choice is ultimately up to the individual.”
Erick looked out at the sunset, across the land of Candlepoint and the distant mountains that separated the Crystal Forest from the Wasteland Kingdoms. White clouds tumbled on that horizon. Being a tree seemed okay. But being a gestalt seemed okay, too. And of course, being a wall had a certain amount of appeal.
Walls could wear down, though, and being one with everything would lead to the dissolution of self.
So a tree was probably better.
Hmm.
Erick asked Poi, “What did Greensoil try while I was indisposed for a day?”
“Nothing, surprisingly.”
Erick laughed. “What!” He smiled. “That's crazy.”
“I’m surprised, too. But it’s not actually that surprising, since they’re focused on shoring up their gains from your involvement in the dungeon, and you were only on this hunt for a day.”
“… Yeah.”
“Any further luck Imaging Greensoil?”
“Ophiel is still doing that, but he hasn’t been able to find anything except for hideouts.” Erick cast his Sight over to Ophiel, in the skies of Greensoil, to check on the [Cascade Imaging] maps he had put up in the air. Still nothing except for a few blue dots here and there. Another shift of Sight and a few quick movements of Ophiel showed Erick that the Inquisitors were on the case in every single apartment building, workshop, bank, bakery, and a good 40-and-more other assorted places, where Fyuri’s DNA had shown up. Erick came back to himself. “Still nothing solid, but they did find the 4 missing conspirators… Those guys all seemed to have gotten to the Surface, somehow. Hopefully Darundi will not push back when I ask to interview them all myself, or when I ask to take Odaari from them.”
“Are you really going to take Odaari?”
“That’s up to Darundi.” Erick asked, “Do you think I shouldn’t?”
“No comment.”
Erick grinned and chuckled. And then he took a sip of beer.
The sunset was pretty gorgeous.
After watching the sunset for a while, on a whim, Erick dialed up the power of his All-Seeing Eye to max.
The blue sky fell away. The clouds vanished. The horizon disappeared.
The sun was a blazing ball of white-gold, unobscured by atmosphere or the planet, with solar flares curling around the edges and falling back in like massive curls of a dragon’s long body. Erick blinked, and the world returned. He chuckled as he brushed tears out of his eyes, and his body healed from the damage of looking straight at the sun.
Poi finished off his beer, saying, “Surprised you didn’t burn yourself more than that.”
Erick smiled, as he asked, “Want another beer?”
“Yes.”
Ophiel leapt up from his perch, saying, “I get! I get!”
Erick would have opened a small [Gate] in the keg in the kitchen to fill his and Poi’s cups that way, but Ophiel’s option worked too. “Thank you, Ophiel.”