0:028 on the 87th day of Winter

Sitting at my desk I scribbled out the third draft of one of the letters to the Royal Society of Mages I was working on. Editing was an absolute pain. Doubly so without word processing software. Maybe I could take a few decades to invent it before bothering to write anything else. That brought a grin with it but it was just an idle thought. It was also a pain to have to describe concepts in physics in a language with none of the foundational words. So, electrical impulse became a short burst of lighting magic. I also had to come up with experiments that others might actually be able to replicate. The ranged darkness spell only worked because I could make light sensors and electronic switches after all.

As I wrote, my mind drifted to the problem of how I was actually going to send the letters. They would have to be anonymous or I would get the gold guard sent after me. I planned to send it in a bundle of other letters and packages to a bulk correspondence company. I would impersonate someone from another bulk correspondence company when dropping it off, which I would send some letters and packages to in turn so that there would be a paper trail to follow. A few layers deep of that and they would have no idea where I was sending stuff from.

“Meow.” said Schrodinger.

He was clearly upset at something.

“Just be patient.” I said. “I just need to finish this and then I will get you breakfast.”

“Meow.” he said undeterred.

“Hey, if you want breakfast sooner, then you can help me think through a problem.” I said, continuing to write. “How would I, with a little bit of knowledge and a printer spell, end a war?” With that he finally lost patience and jumped up on the desk. Before I could stop him he walked right over the paper I was writing on.

“No!” I said. “Bad kitty!” He pulled his feet up, clearly uncomfortable with the wet ink sticking to his paws.

“Hold still.” I said, getting a rag and wiping him before he could make a bigger mess. I let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh well, I guess I will go get some food.” Soon we were back from the kitchens, me with some bread and stew and him with a bowl of milk and a slice of ham. As we ate I restarted our discussion.

“So how would I end the war?” I asked. “Well, option 1, win the war. I could make weapons for humans like I did to end the siege.” I chewed on my bread for a while and then drank water to wash it down. “That's tricky because as soon as the war is over humanity is prone to turn the weapons on each other. Maybe there's a way around that.” Could I make a safety device that I could activate to disable all of my weapons once all the war was over? Maybe, but I couldn't guarantee that it would be tamper proof.

“Option 2, sue for peace. Perhaps this would work if I first made weapons but probably not without substantial military victories first. What do you think, friend?” Schrodinger just glared at me while lapping up his milk. I shrugged and kept going.

“Option three, assassination campaign.” I said. “Distasteful but this is total war. Depending on their governance structure, if I could kill the leading war mongers then perhaps a peaceful faction would take power.” I thought about that for a while. My magic would be extremely well suited to assassination. However, I had no idea who I would go after. I had absolutely no sense of the political situation within the De-mon. Heck, I didn't even speak the language. With my luck I would probably cause a backlash and make things worse somehow. I kept eating my food trying to think of other ways that I might be able to effect the conflict. Building walls wouldn't work. I couldn't move humanity to the moon. Then a thought struck me.

“Hey, this whole thing apparently started because of a scientific article.” I said. “What if…” But no, that would never work. I would have to somehow prove that the problem with human magic was absolutely, unequivocally false. Based on how Cedrea-nel and Polenda-nel talked about it, I would probably come off as a flat-Earth crack pot. But then again it's not like I am a general, politician, or assassin. Maybe I should just stick with what I'm good at and solve this whole mess with science. Maybe I would have to take her up on her offer after all.

“Option four, disprove or otherwise solve the problem of human magic within the De-mons so thoroughly that those that have been calling for war on that basis lose all credibility.” I said. “Of course it is entirely possible that they have already disproved or solved it and just don't care. But if they did care, then doing so could create an opening that could lead to peace, or at least enough infighting that they would collapse under their own weight.”

Schrodinger had eaten his fill and padded over to sit in my lap. I pet him thinking of just how daunting the task before me was. It was the kind of problem that had no closed form solution. No amount of design or careful planning would be sufficient because as soon as something changes all of those carefully made plans would need to change as well.

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That said, nothing was stopping me from pursuing all of these options at the same time. I could work on weapons for humanity. I know how nuclear weapons work, in principle at least, and I actually have the tools to make one. But doing so would involve a lot of radioactive materials that folks could find with those detectors. With the death worm's corpse sitting just a short walk from the walls, the cinderlords commissioned a new batch of bracelets to pass out to other city and military leaders. No, making nukes would probably get me caught and getting caught would probably get me killed by my own people.

The first steps for the other three options all involve learning more about the society and politics of the De-mons. That might be difficult. Maybe there was something in the library but to get any up-to-date information I would need to travel into the demon lands at some point. That would be a short walk to a quick death. All of these plans involve extreme risk and a vanishing small chance of success. Maybe I shouldn't try to end the war.

I looked at the time and realized that I needed to start getting ready for the funeral. The city was putting on a service for all those that died in the siege. There would be more personal services held for friends and family but this was a chance for us to mourn everyone that passed together. I had to get dressed in a formal suit. Now what was I going to do with this cute sleeping cat.

***

1:101 on the 87th day of Winter

Today the whole family dressed in green for mourning and we made our way to the western gates. I had to borrow a cloak from Welant as mine were all black. Most of the city had turned out and we walked together to the burning fields. There were the funeral pyres, lined up in neat rows like festival stalls. Some were large, stacked high with the bodies of those with no one to build theirs. Others were carefully crafted for a lone soul’s departure by the deceased’s loved ones. Thousands had died and today we would grieve the loss of them. As I walked through the rows with my family I gave the traditional thanks to the dead.

“Thank you for your birth, thank you for your life, thank you for your death.” I said. The words were dry on my tongue. I had learned in the days since the siege lifted that Hroadant had died when the northern bastian fell. He was asleep in his home when a demon broke down the door and killed him. It was senseless. I looked around at the field of bodies. All of this was senseless. Thanks to the dead was one of those things. Things you say without reality thinking to much about it. Some nonsense about practicing humility before the whims of the gods. Today it felt forced.

As we walked on through this market of death we passed the young mage that had tested her magic just before me on our first day of mage training. She knelt weeping next to a pyre that held Mage Flood. He was a magist asshole but he didn't deserve this. I stopped to show respect.

“Thank you for your birth, thank you for your life, thank you for your death.” I said. I wanted to say more. To tell her, whoever she was, how thankful I was to study under him. But I could tell she would not hear it if I told her now. Her grief was too heavy. I resolved to send a letter to the Flood estate when it was a lighter burden.

Walking on we passed a larger pyre. The dead were arranged shoulder to shoulder and I recognized a whole group of them all at once. Peradeo and every member of my old decade were there, lifeless and still. I felt a mix of emotions when I saw them. At first, sadness. I fought alongside them and they kept me from dying. At second, spite. They were horrible to me and I never wanted to see them again. At third, relief and guilt. What if I was still with them? Would I be lined up beside them in death? It was a mess that I had no hope of sorting through in the moment.

“Thank you for your birth, thank you for your life, thank you for your death.” I said, trying to let go of the bitterness and guilt. They didn't deserve a senseless death either.

After giving thanks, everyone gathered at a safe distance. There were many priests of many gods giving prayers to usher the departed into the next life. The next life. I hadn't really thought about it but those words held new meaning for me. This was my next life. In a way, this was a kind of afterlife for the person I was on earth. That person, me, I was an atheist. Was an afterlife out there for everyone that dies? Somewhere out there, in some permutation of the wave function, there could be a world where everyone was summoned into myriad afterlives. If it was possible once, here in this world, then why not? Then again I was probably just deluding myself. There was still no way to know if the person I was had ever existed.

As the pyres were lit I looked around for Arin. She was here with her family somewhere. I didn't want to bother her but I wanted to find her if I could. But I couldn't see her from where I was. I let out a sigh, this time in regret. I wish she was here to lean on. She never let me stew in my thoughts for too long. As the field burned higher and higher I thought of those that had died, recently and since the start of this war. Each was precious. More so with how few humans there were left.

It reminded me of the task my mother had given me. To end the war, but how. The fire and smoke darkened the sky and brought forth an early sunset. Say, for the sake of argument, I made a choice to try. I would probably die trying. If I died would I regret it? Yes, I would of course like to live. But if I were dead I couldn't regret it. I would be dead. Dead men don't care that they're dead. Only the living can care. I looked around at my family. They would care if I died.

I looked at my sister Mistila. Just coming into her magic and she was courageous enough to face an oralith. I looked to Aostilo, always putting on a brave face, and Welant, always looking out for us, and Fonsa, always willing to help. Of course Ingo was still home recovering but he was cut from the same cloth. Even father, stirn and hard as he was sometimes, always wanted the best for us. I loved all of them. I would die happy if I knew it was in their stead.

Perhaps it was as simple as that. Regardless of why I was summoned to this world, I had to try everything I could to end this war. No matter how dangerous it was, if my actions could make it so my family was safe then I had to go for it.