Ar'Kendrithyst

Erick needed to clear his head.

So, for whatever reason, he decided to visit a few more Presentations, while almost all the Shades were busy being elsewhere. Such were the circumstances in which he found himself walking along the roads of the Palace District, toward whatever that place up ahead was, where a plume of rainbow smoke billowed out from atop a long post.

He wasn’t alone.

“Not that I’m saying your presence isn’t welcome. But why?”

Fallopolis said, “I’m waiting to see who you kill next. That business with Gora was pure art, that was.”

Erick reflexively gasped, but he kept his reaction tiny, as soon as he realized it was happening. He said, “I didn’t kill him.” Erick attempted to quip, “Not a single point of Participation.”

“And that’s what made it so artful!” Fallopolis happily added, “Gora makes two Shades killed today.”

“… Two?” Erick asked, “Who was the other one?”

“You don’t know him, but he was a dragonkin Shade who helped the Halls of the Dead gain the materials to make a Breach Demon, all those months ago.”

Erick paused. He tried to think of any possible person, in any of Killzone’s words, who fell in line with what Fallopolis had just said. He came up blank. “I really should have heard of that one before now.” Especially since he was the one who killed the Breach Demon. He asked, “Who was it?”

“Guy by the name of Anopix. He always keeps to the deep shadows. He barely showed up this year. And then Tania killed him.” Fallopolis said, “He was a less-successful version of Torika, the Shade of Ashes. The one who Tania Judged the other day who went around infiltrating and killing higher-ups? You remember. I think Tania is following a plan, and culling the slippery or quiet ones, first. Anopix barely had a presence inside Kendrithyst, so he certainly qualified as quiet.” Fallopolis smirked. “Get it? Quiet? Of the Quiet War?”

“Well then I’m glad he’s dead.” Erick added, “Couldn’t have happened to a better guy.”

Fallopolis nodded, agreeing. Then she said, “Tania is done, though.”

Erick frowned a little. “What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s going to start, soon. Cracks are showing.” Fallopolis said, “Look around you, Erick. Does this look like a place on the verge of a party?”

Erick had been looking around all this time. He saw normal people rushing to follow white lines carved into the road, hurrying to get to presentations, to submit themselves to individual Shades for consideration. He saw presentation spaces almost empty, or manned by a single non-Shade. What he didn’t see was the cavorting and extravagance and lounging and casual violence that he had expected, coming in to this Feast. “Well. Maybe.” He said, “I did expect orgies out in the open.”

Fallopolis exclaimed, “Yes! No orgies this year! You see it. This is wrong. And people are catching on.” She asked, “What’s your plan when the towers start falling?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know, Fallopolis.”

With a slight scowl, she said. “How very politic.” And then she looked ahead. “Oh? Are we going to taunt Hollowsaur, next?”

Erick’s destination was just ahead; a large plot of grasslands on the western slope of the Palace, where large cages sat in the sun, and animals prowled under the watchful eye of their Beastmaster, Hollowsaur.

Erick said, “I heard he makes level 90 beasts, and I wanted to see one.”

Fallopoilis eyed him. “Why, though?”

He shrugged. “For a number of reasons.”

Fallopolis hmm’d, as the two of them finally moved close enough to see, in person, what was going on with the ‘animals’. Beyond a small fence that would have done nothing to prevent any sort of escape if any of the monsters inside wanted to escape, lounged four beasts, sunning themselves in the aurora light from above. Several small green people sat around with them, tending to their needs like the monsters were rich ladies at a spa. It was a relaxing sort of atmosphere.

Except for the monstrous monsters, of course.

One beast was a fox. It was three meters tall, and void-black, even its eyes, save for the tiny white tufts on the tips of its ears, and on the tips of its three tails. It sat in the sun, enjoying itself as a small green person brushed out its coat with a long rake. It yawned, showing off a red maw full of needle teeth.

Another monster was actually a collection of normal-sized monsters: owls made of lightning and fire. Four of them sat upon a scorched tree stand, while a small green man took turns flipping up fishes to them.

Ophiel instantly took an interest in the birds, and they took an interest in Ophiel, but Erick kept his own [Familiar]s back, as the lightning birds flapped a little and hooted at him from twenty meters away. A suddenly concerned owl-feeder looked over to Erick, his eyes going wide as he shook his head, muttering ‘no-no-no-no’. Erick just nodded, and stayed away from the lightning birds as he moved Ophiel out of direct line of sight. The owls calmed down, and Erick stayed on the edge of the field.

The last monster was an eyebeast made of golden eyes, held together by optic nerves and magic. Four meters tall, it almost looked like some sort of bull. The shape was there; four equal-length legs made of eyes, a thick body made of eyes, and a head with horns, which were, of course, made of eyes.

Killzone had told Erick about this one. It had been made from adventurers who had been turned into ‘eye-cattle’, who were then harvested for eyes, while being healed to ensure that the eyes kept coming. It was horrific stuff.

Doing some very rough math, and estimating the weight of an eye and the optic nerve weighing 10 grams, and comparing the bull in front of him to those Erick knew of, as weighing 1500 kg…

“A hundred and fifty thousand eyes?” Erick guessed. “Sounds about right.”

The gold-eyed bull plodded around on the grass. It leaned down to open its maw and eat some grass. Oh. So it had teeth, too. Maybe it wasn’t fully made of eyes? How quaint.

The abomination turned toward Erick. It huffed, then went back to its small green caretaker.

Erick turned to leave.

Hollowsaur stood on the road. He narrowed his eyes at Erick, and asked, “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see the pretty monsters.”

“Cow shit.”

“Maybe.” Erick said, “I’ve actually been thinking a bit, too. Maybe that’s why I came over here.”

Hollowsaur deadpanned, “What.”

“You offer incentives for people to invade you, asking them to harm your people and your pets, and then you kill them when they aren’t fast or strong enough because you enjoy this. But you’re obviously skilled enough to make horrors without using people.” Erick gestured toward the monsters, asking, “So why do you do this? Do you hate the world? Do you simply wish to cause lasting harm? I don’t think you actually do wish to cause true harm, for these people here seem to like you. Or have you soul scoured them into loving you like fanatics?”

One of the green men rushed the fence at the edge of the garden, shouting, “You leave him alone! He’s a good guy!”

Hollowsaur glared at the smaller man. No audible words were exchanged, but the man went back to work, tending to the eye-bull.

“I don’t control my people like that, Erick.” Hollowsaur turned toward Erick. “I turned those invaders back into people. They’re still partially cows. That’s never going to change. So congratulations on inventing a new form of sapient life. They’re your responsibility now.”

“Ah.” Erick nodded. “The minotaurs. Glad to hear they’re okay. I’ll have to go check on them later.”

Hollowsaur scrunched his face. “The what?”

“You stole Jane’s laptop. Those words are in there.” Erick said, “Anyway. I hope they won’t have long lasting health, social, or soul problems because of what you did.”

“They’re more stable than incani souls.” Hollowsaur sneered. “But when the world tries to kill them, that’s on you.”

Erick smiled. “I’m sure you’ve done well. Hopefully, you never have to do such awful things ever again.”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Hollowsaur said, “You sound like Priestess and you’re pissing me off, and my birds, too.”

Erick saw as the lightning-fire owls flapped and puffed in his direction, and as the fox on the other side of the field regarded him. Erick said, “Very well, Hollowsaur. See you tomorrow at the Second Telling.”

- - - -

Three streets closer to Quilatalap’s apartment, Fallopolis asked, “What was the point of that?”

“I’m not sure.”

Fallopolis smirked. “Okay?” She added, “Also, you named those cow people something special, didn’t you?”

“You guys didn’t already have myths about cow people?” Erick said, “There’re shifters everywhere. Are some of them not cow shifters?”

“Nope!” Fallopolis said, “Wolf, owl, and snake. Three kinds. And I’d hardly consider one out of every thousand random people to be ‘everywhere’. Shifters are rather rare.” She said, “So tell me: how prominent is this word you just used to describe these cow-people? Was it anything close to ‘Reincarnation’?”

Erick scrunched his face. “Not at all. But that brings up something I’ve been wanting to ask. Magic and language; how connected are they?”

“Deeper than the deepest Darkness. It could be said that without language, there could be no magic.” Fallopolis said, “It’s widely believed that the Ancient Script of the Script is a bastardization of Holy Thought, brought down to Veird, and wrapped in chains of soul and wrought. What we tap into when we attempt to enchant, is both what others have carved out of the Script, and a real bastardization of actual magic. True Magic and True Enchanted Items never fade; like dreams written down so that you can know of them beyond the few moments past waking. But everything fades away under the Script.”

“And that’s another thing!” Erick asked, “How are you guys able to make artifacts so easily? That Mini Box is something my Jane has been after since we fell to Veird. A portable storage unit. It wasn’t till recently that I began to think of doing the same thing but with [Gate] magic.” He added, “You know… Eventually.”

Fallopolis shook her head. “Artifacts are noteasy to make. The Script gradually… I should start at the beginning. Whatever enchanting ideas you’ve been fed are likely wrong.”

“Let’s get back to the house, and we can talk.” Erick said, “I want to make lunch, anyway.”

Fallopolis smiled. “I will take you up on that offer!”

- - - -

Erick knew what awaited him inside the house, before he opened the front door.

Quilatalap was already there, already in the kitchen and making lunch, while the four adventurers sat at the table, looking much like lemons were on the menu; a little bit pissed, sad, and angry, at the same time. Rather silent, too.

And then Erick opened the door and walked inside. The adventurers instantly locked eyes with him.

Quilatalap just said, “Hey, Erick,” as he busied himself in the kitchen kneading some pasta, or making bread; Erick wasn’t sure. He had already put together some sort of cheese sauce that was currently simmering on the stove.

Erick said, “Hello, Quilatalap.” He stepped in further, saying, “Hello,” to the four people he would need to help survive the Converter Angel. Or something. He still wasn’t quite sure how that was going to work out.

Fallopolis grinned wide, silently watching, as she filed in behind Erick and waited for something more to happen. She was enjoying this, for sure.

Erick said, “I was going to make lunch, if you wanted. I can make it for all of us.”

Quilatalap just smiled a little, then said, “I got it. I’m making cheese pasta. Instead of that, why don’t you talk to these guys, first? Tania seemed serious about having them at the Second Telling, so I thought it best to get that problem out of the way, now. They’ve been talking about you amongst themselves for two months now.”

Fallopolis said, “Oh! Spoilsport! Just look at them.” She said, “I’m not one for Tania’s plots, but it would have been so much fun to see them at the Second Telling, without a private introduction. More Shades could have died.”

Erick grumbled, as he stared at Fallopolis, hoping that she could leave for a while.

Fallopolis smiled wider, and said, “I’m not leaving. This is pure drama! The fate of nations! The plight of planets! Or at least the plight of poor people in those places.” She teased, “Watch out now! Skorka might try to kill you by switching out the salt shaker!”

“I will not,” Skorka said, as her red eyes locked on Erick’s, telling a different story.

Fallopolis stepped, her feet flashing shadows, and suddenly she was sitting on the couch, across the room. Every single adventurer casually turned toward her. There was a moment of heaviness at the Shade’s open use of potentially hostile magics. And then it was gone.

Fallopolis told the adventurers, “Good reaction! No immediate violence. Nice dilatation of those eyes. But you: Blue.” Fallopolis eyed the blue woman, saying, “You turned on some physical skill. That could be taken as a sign of desire to fight. Around Shades, your only real shields are either propriety, or vulnerability.”

Erick eyed the adventurers, and went over their names in his head. The red man, Rexx, was an Assassin. The magenta woman, Idolizia, was a Hunter. The blue woman, Caizoa, was a Juggernaut. The white woman, Skorka, was their Cook. Skorka was responsible for enacting the plan that poisoned and killed off the rest of their remaining party…

And there were too many new names today. This was not mentally exhausting, but it was emotionally exhausting. Erick had just upended a local crime syndicate not two hours ago, after all.

Caizoa, the Juggernaut, said, “A defensive skill, to prevent the likes of you from running over us like a raging wyrm.”

“Oh! Baby, darling, honey, sweetcake.” Fallopolis lightly said, “Don’t challenge a Shade to prove they’re better than you. You wouldn’t like the obvious outcome.” She offhandedly complained to whoever would listen, saying, “Children these days! Did you not even read the codes of conduct for entering Kendrithyst? Such shame.”

Skorka put a hand to Caizoa, preventing the woman from rising from her chair, as Skorka said, “Our Caizoa is the idiot of the group. Pay her no mind.”

Caizoa glared at Skorka, but there was more embarrassment in her look than any real heat.

“I was already doing so, dear, but here’s some advice for you: don’t tell a Shade what to do. They’ll go out of their way to fuck you over.” Fallopolis magnanimously said, “You four are going to experience a lot more shit till you get out of here with your Black Star. Best be better than who you are!”

“Your advice is acceptable.” Skorka asked, “When can we leave?”

Quilatalap said, “As soon as the barrier is down. 7 more days.”

Professionally, Skorka said, “We will not last that long if we are to be paraded out in front of the… The Clergy, time and again. I ask that we be allowed to leave Brightwater, and to take refuge in the open city beyond.”

Fallopolis tilted her head. “No. You’d die out there, for sure.”

Skorka barely kept the glare out of her eyes, as she asked, “Why?”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Fallopolis said, “Because I’d kill you myself, take that Black Star, and shove it at Erick.”

While the four adventurers glared from the Shade to Erick, Erick just sighed, Quilatalap paused his kneading for a moment, before continuing, and Fallopolis looked like a cat who got the cream.

Erick said at Fallopolis, “Why.”

With exuberance, Fallopolis said, “To start this show off right! Tania is already planning on—”

“Are you really doing this, Fallopolis?” Quilatalap asked.

“Yes, we are doing this! It’s already happening, my fine dead friend! Tania killed two Shades this morning!” Fallopolis continued talking at Quilatalap, undaunted, “All the smart ones know what is happening, and all the dumb dumbs are decidedly dead.” Fallopolis gave a wild smile, as she continued, “And these four can either fall in line, or fall apart. Besides! All they wanted was for the Converter Angel to die, right? Give Erick the Black Star, and that problem solves itself!”

“I’m not going on a killing spree, Fallopolis.” Erick said, as he sat down on an empty couch, facing the rest of them.

“You really could, though.” Fallopolis kindly said, “And I’d help.”

Skorka said, “We don’t want to get involved—”

“Shush.” Fallopolis shot them a look. “The adults are talking.”

Skorka continued anyway, “And we refuse to allow the Black Star to fall into the hands of an archmage, anyway. It’s ours, by right of trial, and we will see that Angel evicted from this world before it can do any more damage.”

“Oh?” Fallopolis, partially mad, went suddenly intrigued. She asked, “It’s not the human-thing that concerns you? It’s the unkillable archmage? That’s interesting… I wonder why.” Casually, and in a way that no one thought was actually casual, she asked, “Have you been talking to Tania already? Or was it Bulgan?”

While their Juggernaut paled to a brighter shade of blue, the other three tried not to give away the game at all. They failed. They were very good at it, though. Erick could barely tell that Skorka knew the most of all of them. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew; but he did.

Erick looked directly at Skorka. She looked at him. Erick asked, “Did one of them want you to kill me?” Erick instantly zeroed in on the assassin; Rexx. “Why?”

No one spoke. Rex activated some sort of Skill; his breathing evened out as he calmed, completely, and began to sit there, same as before, but now with a mask to his features, and an average beat to his heart.

Without turning from the adventurers, Fallopolis offered, “Tania wants Erick dead now?”

Confusion, all around, except for Rexx. His entire body was still a mask.

After a moment, Erick said, “No... That’s not it. Maybe Tania or Bulgan weren’t involved, yet?” Erick realized, saying, “It was another Shade. But who?”

“… Perhaps.” Fallopolis said, “Likely, in any case. So who was it? Are you four kids connected to one of us? Oh. That got a reaction.” It had. Caizoa, the blue Juggernaut, gave away that secret. Fallopolis waited a beat, and when no one spoke, she said, “I’m going to throw out some names. Here goes: Silverite—”

Not one of the adventurers had any emotions.

Erick openly balked. “What?”

Fallopolis glanced at Erick, saying, “It’s a long list! I can probably do this without you, but you might want to know going forward. So hush, and let me do my Quick Interrogation!” She pointed at Rexx. “And you. Stop that. It’s a crutch. That [Stilled Body] does you more harm than good, because not only does it prevent you from developing real skill, if you don’t stop, there’s going to be some physical harm done to you, right now.”

Quilatalap said, “Fallopolis. Do not harm my guests.”

Fallopolis mouthed, ‘Killjoy’.

Skorka spoke up, “We wish to go back into stasis until this is over. We have a goal, and it has nothing to do with whatever is going on with you all.”

Quilatalap said, “If I put you in storage, you’ll likely die.” He said, “I saw the look in Tania’s eyes. I can’t tell exactly what she wanted, but she has something planned, and it will likely involve you. So if you’re not there to participate, then you will die.”

The women adventurers went silent. The man, Rexx, was still operating under the power of his Skill.

“Fine! I’ll continue the interrogation normally. Bah!” Fallopolis rattled off, “Viscount Andro Helix, of Frontier… No. Pirazel Xelxex, of Kal’Duresh… Looks like a no. North, Old Kingdom, Swamptown, Delta, the Wall… Oh. Old Kingdom. Yes. House Blue. House Tourniquet. King Rashi. Oh. There’s something. House Ribbon— House Ribbon! But not all of you. Skorka. House Ribbon. Yes.”

Erick watched her do it, keeping up with the names that were new to him, and watching as her words sent ripples through the Adventurers. They reacted to a lot more than just ‘Old Kingdom’, though— Oh.

Erick frowned at Fallopolis, saying, “They’ve been inside the Armory for two months. You already knew all this. Are you doing this to prove something to me?”

“No no.” Fallopolis said, “Well. Yes. I knew the basics of where they came from, but this business of not wanting to hook up with you is very odd. They’re from Swamptown, Erick. So why did they react to ‘Old Kingdom’ so much? That’s what gives me pause. That, and that you’re already contracted to help kill the Converter Angel, and the New Demons know this, so these people should know this, too. So why not use you? When you searched and found those hunters, after they ran? That was worldwide news! You’d be nothing but a help to these people. So. This reluctance is an unexpected phenomenon, and Tania must have caught on to that, too.

“What I just pinged off were the larger Kingdoms of the Wasteland, and I wanted to see where the discrepancies led, for myself. Old Kingdom is a very old operating area for almost every Shade who has ever gone through that place.” She turned back to the adventurers, and started naming Shades. “Cludolphis, Farix, Goldie, Queen, Perri, Rodel, Skyhook… None of these? Odd.”

Erick came to the same conclusion, mostly.

Fallopolis said, “Let’s get weird, then. Strain, Mallor, Natis, Gora, Anopix— Aha! Anopix! OF COURSE it’s that one. But I had to go through the other options first, to get a baseline, you know.”

Three adventurers flinched, in tiny, barely visible ways, as Fallopolis spoke of Anopix. Rexx did not. He was still under the influence of his Skill.

Fallopolis smiled, asking anyone, “Is that why Tania killed Anopix today?”

Their reactions were much larger, that time. Much larger. Skorka breathed deep. The other three, even Rexx, seemed to deflate, ever so slightly. Caizoa’s eyes went wide, and wet, as anger washed across her face, and she whispered denials to herself.

Skorka simply said, “Shit.”

Fallopolis triumphantly declared, “You need to pick a new route if you want to go forward with your plans! That one is closed, my sweets! Anopix is deader than the Old Cosmology!” She gestured to Erick, saying, “Here’s a route. Pretty good one, too. With the Black Star on his chest, he can kill all the Shades and then move on to the Converter Angel.”

Skorka said, “I will not give absolute power to a human.”

“Ah!” Fallopolis laughed, then said, “It IS the human-thing! Good old racism! Pops up where you least expect it!”

“I don’t want that Star.” Erick said, “And I will not accept it.”

Fallopolis’s face fell a fraction. “But it’s such a good solution! Everyone wins!”

Erick was still thinking of the bodies on the playground, as he said, “I don’t think I can kill anyone today.”

“Okay okay. Fine fine.” Fallopolis said, “Tomorrow, then. Nothing has to happen right now!”

No one spoke. The adventurers glared at Erick, or at Fallopolis. Caizoa silently glared at the table in front of her, hot tears rolling down her face. Quilatalap silently rolled pasta into sheets, and moments passed in relative silence.

Erick said, “I’d like to know more about Anopix.”

Caizoa’s face shot up to stare at Erick.

Fallopolis asked, “How much do you know of the Opalice Kingdom, and the Scaled Horns?”

Erick said, “The Opalice Empire are the people who broke the Lori Dukedom, while the Scaled Horns were the ones that tried to push for dragonkin inclusion into higher offices in the Greensoil Republic. The two events happened at roughly the same time on opposite sides of Glaquin.” Erick thought a bit more, and added, “When the Opalice Empire was destroyed and the remnants became the Wasteland Kingdoms, meanwhile, over in the Greensoil Republic, the Scaled Union was radicalized into the Scaled horns...” He asked Fallopolis. “The Opalice Empire was a nation of Script-haters. Was that you?”

Fallopolis said, “I know for an undeniable fact that the Clergy did not cause the fall of the Lori Dukedom. They were controlled, and we liked them that way.”

“Yeah. Right. A land as old and as stable as the Lori Dukedom suddenly falls to anti-Script rhetoric and you expect me to think you guys weren’t involved?”

“I mean… We were involved… In a way. But it wasn’t very direct.” Fallopolis said, “Long story short: Anopix was a dragonkin born to an incani mother and a dragon father, who reached maturity about the time the Opalice Empire was gaining traction in the Lori Dukedom. Anopix came to us while the Lori Dukedom was still burning. He became a Shade, and then he went right back into the world, looking to kill those who had taken his kingdom from him. Where all the rest of us were content to watch that part of the world burn, Anopix went on a silent rampage, cleaning up the Opalice Empire, and then, when that was done, he left the remnants of that land to their own devices.

“Anopix next set his sights on the Greensoil Republic, looking for revenge however he could get it, for the killers of his kingdom had to be human, right?” Sarcastically, Fallopolis said, “It’s not like people are dumb and hateful and controlling on their own. Anyway. Anopix had heard about their Scaled Union, and went to investigate. No one but those people are truly sure what happened, then. But soon enough, the Scaled Union changed from an instrument of slow social change, into an organization dedicated to pushing radical change. When that didn’t work, they turned to extremism, and terrorism. And then you have the birth of the Halls of the Dead somewhere in all that mess.” Fallopolis said, “Anopix has been quietly seeding war against the Republic for a long time. He’s rarely ever in Kendrithyst—”

The blue woman, Caizoa, couldn’t handle it anymore. She yelled, “And you PIGS turned our best hope for real change into Experience! DAMN YOU ALL!” She flickered, blue, then went still.

Quilatalap was staring at her. He had done something.

Caizoa sat back down in her chair, like a puppet put to rest. The other three incani glared from Fallopolis, to Quilatalap, to Erick, but no one said a word.

And then Fallopolis said, “I knew Anopix cultivated some sort of following. But to get this reaction? How close were you?”

Skorka breathed deep. Then she said, “He was a silent benefactor. Some of us were closer to him than others.”

That was a lie. A pretty big one, too.

“Why bother lying, now?” Erick asked.

Caizoa stiffened, as she sat upright in her chair. Quilatalap must have let her go. She didn’t speak, but she did hunker down in her chair.

And then Fallopolis set off a metaphorical bomb, saying, “Caizoa. You’re related to Anopix, aren’t you.” She pointed at Caizoa. “Familial relation? Did Anopix have a sister or brother somewhere? Someone he kept with him after becoming a Shade?” She narrowed her eyes, and hammered in, “Are you his grand-niece?”

Caizoa’s eyes went wide. And then her chest heaved. Her shoulders shook. And she started bawling. Snotty, tear-filled crying. It rapidly got worse, and louder.

“Yup.” Fallopolis said, “Got it.” She smiled. “That’s also how they were able to stand in front of the Clergy and not piss themselves; they’ve had practice facing Shades.” She smiled at Quilatalap. “You knew! You kept their lower halves controlled, to give them plausible deniability!”

The magenta woman, Idolizia, put a hand on Caizoa’s shoulder, and Caizoa fell into Idolizia’s arms, still crying.

Quilatalap just sighed, as he tossed fresh noodles into a pot of boiling water.

Skorka looked from her teammate, to Erick, saying, “We’re not giving humans power over anyone. Ever.”

“Good.” Erick said, “I don’t want it. But I am going to help you kill the Converter Angel when the time comes—” And then several thoughts struck Erick like a bolt from the blue. “Oh.”

Fallopolis’s jaw dropped. “You thought of something! Tell me!”

Erick looked to Quilatalap, saying, “You usually remove memories before you give out the Black Star?”

“Yeah.” Quilatalap said, “Operational procedure when giving out artifacts that have the chance to go really wrong. The Black Star is one of them.”

Erick said, “Tania is going to ask that the Black Star be given to them now. With unaltered memories.”

Fallopolis narrowed her eyes at nothing in particular, then she turned to the adventurers. “Who do you want to kill most?”

They didn’t speak. All they did was stare at Fallopolis and Erick like they were monsters.

Erick knew their unsaid answer.

Erick said, “They want to kill humans, and Tania wants to kill humans, too. You qualify as human, Fallopolis, and so do I. Hence the hatred in their eyes. Tania wants to give the Star to them and set them loose upon Kendrithyst.”

Skorka said, “You humans deserve death for what you’ve done.”

Fallopolis said, “You’re going to have to narrow that statement down, girly girl.”

“You both deserve the End.” She looked to Erick. “And you’re worse than her. That Breach Demon would have helped to finally end the threat of the Republic.”

Caizoa stopped crying long enough to say, “I want to see Uncle Anopix. Where is his body?”

“Turned to gore then ash, no doubt.” Fallopolis said, “Sorry, girl. Your uncle is gone.”

Caizoa sniffled, then continued to silently cry.

Skorka glared at Fallopolis, saying, “We’re not stupid enough to start a war against the human Shades, or the Shade-adjacent.”

Erick saw that for a lie, and he called her on it. “Why keep lying? I can already see you thinking about what it would mean to join Tania in her war. You’ve already worked with one Shade long before today, so what’s another?”

And then another thought occurred. Should he kill these people, to prevent Tania using them against every human under the barrier?

Erick asked Quilatalap, “Would this scenario be possible? Wouldn’t the Black Star kill the user if they used it like this?”

“Now that you’ve laid it all out there…” Quilatalap fished noodles out of one massive pot and put them into the second massive pot, full of cheese sauce. He said, “It sounds like a risk Tania would be willing to let these people take.”

“It’s messy, but… But it would kick it all off. Honestly, it’s getting rather stale, waiting this long for the open war to begin. If Tania does this...” Fallopolis shrugged. “I can evade these young idiots, so I’m not worried about myself. So, I say: Let Tania have her plots! I should go work on my own.” She stood up. “Good luck, kids! I hope you kill plenty of Shades before the Black Star kills you.” She turned to Erick. “We can talk magic another day; there’s work to be done!” She stepped into shadows, and was gone.

Rexx, the assassin, lost his mask, as he muttered, “Well, shit.”

Idoliza said, “Seven more gods damned days in here.”

“I can put you all into storage if you want.” Quilatalap said, “But it sounds like people have plans for you, and it’ll be hard to evade those plans when you’re not yourself.”

“No storage.” Skorka said, “We live and die in the open.”

Erick asked, “Who was Anopix, Quilatalap?”

Caizoa shouted, “A wonderful man! The only good Shade out there!” She did not devolve back into tears, but it was a close thing.

Erick frowned at them. “You just said a Shade was ‘good’, and Skorka there is entertaining the idea of joining Tania’s scheme to kill the human Shades, at least. But there’s only one Black Star, right? Only one of you gets it. That means the rest of you die when you try this crazy idea.”

Skorka said, “We knew what was necessary before we tried for the Black Star. We have a plan.”

Rexx eyed Skorka, saying, “We had a plan, Skorka.” He added, “Joining a Clergy-plot will harm that plan.”

“What is your plan?” Erick asked.

Skorka looked away from Erick. Taking their cue from her, the other three began to ignore Erick, too.

It appeared that Erick didn’t rate an explanation without a Shade standing beside him. He didn’t know whether to be happy or mad about that.

Quilatalap finished plating out six large bowls of pasta, saying, “Seems this is a good time to stop talking and eat, no? Maybe you four will feel less suicidal after some pasta.” He asked Violet, “Can you help dish these out?”

Violet, who had been standing off to the side this whole time, being professionally barely seen, and not heard, did as she was asked. There was a bowl left over for her, too, but she gracefully said that she would eat later. She would probably report all of what was said to Queen, later, too. But no one seemed to care about that.

The adventurers accepted their food, in silence, and remained in silence the whole time.

It was an awkward lunch.

Partway through, Erick asked, “Oh, Quilatalap? You mentioned that the thick air from [Cleanse] was a very complicated topic.”

Skorka, Caizoa, Rexx, and Idoliza, scowled at Erick.

“We can talk afterward.” Quilatalap asked, “But have you bought all those Sights, yet?”

Erick said, “Yeah. I bought them earlier, and leveled them during your presentation. They’re all level 10.”

Mana Sight X, instant, close range, 5 mana per second

See the truth of mana all around you.

Blood Sight X, instant, close range, 5 mana per second

See the blood all around you.

Soul Sight X, instant, close range, 5 mana per second

See the souls all around you.

They were easy to level, since they were just 5 mana per second experience machines, and Erick could run all of them at the same time. He just activated them through an Ophiel who was sitting out of the way, with nothing better to do.

“Good.” Quilatalap said, “They’re not great on their own, but they are necessary for creating counters.”

- - - -

Erick looked through the back window of the house, at a small cottage partially hidden beyond some low trees. He asked, “They’re actually going to be safe over there?”

Quilatalap shut the door behind him, as he said, “They’re not safe. No one is safe, Erick. Especially not with this trouble looking to start.” He sat on the couch. “But I can help prepare you a bit. Any radiant questions, burning pages in your book?”

Erick looked at Quilatalap. “Oh. It’s a saying.”

Quilatalap laughed. “Making me feel old! I thought everyone still said that one?”

“Maybe they do?” Erick said, “I’m beginning to think that I don’t spend nearly enough time outside of my own house. I have the distinct feeling that I missed out on talking to those four; on trying to come to an understanding. I should have been able to talk to those people, to try… But… The hostility of this world still gets me… sometimes. Or maybe all the time.”

Quilatalap nodded, knowingly. “Something to work on.”

“Lots of things to work on!” Erick sat down on the couch across from him, and rattled off a few of his goals, both long term and short term, in no particular order, “The best [Dispel]. The best [Privacy Ward]. The possibility of learning [Resurrection], and the possibility of learning an [Immortality] spell. Though those last two are more curiosity than necessity. Oh! And the possibility of a [Renew] spell.”

Quilatalap thought. He said, “Let’s start with the impossibilities. [Resurrection] and [Immortality]. The first, because you’re not ready and I don’t teach that to just anyone, no matter their backing. And [Immortality] is impossible without Phagar’s direct allowance. It’s much easier to just learn enough Blood Magic and Soul Magic to keep yourself running for however long you wish.”

Erick nodded. He had expected most of that.

Quilatalap continued, “[Dispel]… Normally, I wouldn’t push people down this path, but you might do well to learn how to [Counterspell]. It's a variant [Dispel] that allows the user to spend a pittance of mana, comparatively, to lock down another spellcaster’s casting. Useless in a duel, when you might run out of mana or mess up a counter well before your opponent makes a mistake, and then you’re dead. Useless when the enemy has an Elemental Body and knows how to use it outside of a Script Second. But in certain situations [Counterspell] shines. One of those situations is when you’re in a group, and you have one dedicated Counterspeller. For you, you can probably achieve the best of all worlds by dedicating an Ophiel to this task.”

Ophiel cooed at his name.

“What about a [Total Dispel]?” Erick clarified, “Spend a thousand mana, [Dispel] any single spell. Or all the spells on a person. Or… All the spells connected to a person. That would be useful.”

Quilatalap chuckled. “That would be useful, but that’s firmly in the realm of a Destruction Wizard.”

Erick grumbled.

“The Script enforces a lot of nuances in its operations. One of those is a 1-to-1 mana cost to erase another mage’s spellwork.” Quilatalap added, “You can make a [Dispel] with some high-ratio Variable costs, but that’s either Blood Magic, or ‘tricking’ magic. I can help you achieve some of that, too.”

Erick nodded.

Quilatalap continued, “I think that the best [Privacy Ward] is going to be rather easy for you, now that you have a mana sense. As soon as you can get [Witness], you can put that and [Scry] and all the Sights you got today, backwards, into [Ward]. Or, if you don’t want to block the sight of your Ophiel, you can not include [Scry]. Play around with it. It’s only tier 2 or 3, depending on if you want to start with a good [Privacy Ward], first.

“Now, as for [Renew]…” Quilatalap asked, “What is that?”

“A spell I’ve been kicking around for a while.” Erick said, “The idea is a spell that would allow others to [Renew] ongoing magics. Here’s an example: you have your resident archmage cast a big defensive spell around a city, and then you have guards, or whoever, contribute to the defense by casting [Renew] into the shield, renewing duration, damage absorption, [Teleport]-negation. That sort of stuff. It would be like large-scale temporary enchanting, that anyone could contribute to, that would have the potential to outlast the archmage’s life by a very long time.”

Quilatalap instantly said, “Paradox Wizard. No other way to do that.”

Erick’s heart sunk. “Nooo….”

“Yes.” Quilatalap said, “But… Tell me if I have some wrong assumptions: What you’re asking to make is a Basic Tier spell that anyone can buy for a point. This spell will allow for the renewal of magic, which, when you get down to the complexity required, is like an original caster using a coin-press to churn out a spell, and then when that spell degrades, like a coin rusting, another caster comes by and meticulously fiddles with the coin to un-rust it. Is this basically correct?”

“Yes! But! [Mend] exists. This would just be [Mend] for magic?”

“Ah! But [Mend] doesn’t actually fix anything. It makes it so those items never broke.”

“… What?”

“That is what [Mend] does.” Quilatalap said, “And when the damage to an object is too deep —too ingrained in the history of the item— [Mend] fails. To make a long explanation short: In a similar way in which [Mend] fails to heal long-term damage, when magic degrades, the damage is too deep to be repaired.”

“So maybe a [Renew] that works on new-ish magic? It won’t revive a dead spell, but it will keep a young spell young?”

“No. Let me explain another way: [Mend] is physical reconstitution of an etheric construct of the manasphere that exists because items have lingering lives in the manasphere. Going in the other direction, to make mana constructs from the physical, is also possible, but that field of magic is called enchanting. But you don’t want to use artifacts or enchantments, so, that’s that.”

“But. Like…” Erick tried, “I can unrust a coin with Particle Magic.” He wasn’t able to right then, but Erick was pretty sure he could string together a few Particle Spells to unrust most any coin. “And I’ve made a Permanent duration spell before! I know it’s possible to ‘repair’ magic.”

Quilatalap took a deep breath, and sat back on his couch. He said, “You’ve got a lot of overlapping problems and topics, so let’s tackle the permanent duration spell, first.

“In the case of permanent magic, you made a spell that is readily able to be repaired through the natural vagaries of magic. I’ve made a few permanent duration spells, too. We probably made them in similar ways, with built-in methodology for self-repair. Right?”

“Yeah… Sort of.”

Quilatalap nodded. “But you’re talking about making a spell that will enable the repair of anyrandom spell you encounter. Now, if you wish to make a specific shield spell, and then teach people some individualized spells that people have to learn that can specifically repair the specific original spell you cast, that might be doable. You might even be able to make an artifact that is able to prop up this shield you speak of, with nodes that allow the caster to imbue them with mana, to continue to prop up the shield. This has even been done before.

“But what you’re actually trying to do is have anyone repair any damaged magic. True?”

Erick said, “True… But now I’m really intrigued about this shielding artifact you speak of.”

“The real ones are called Tears of Aloeth. The fake ones are called City Shields, though no one uses them anymore since they’re so easy to break. Anti-specific-magic runes are much, much more reliable, and harder to break, since you have to stress multiple runes for the whole system to fail. Stressing and breaking a City Shield is as easy as attacking any part of the construct. Anyway—” Quilatalap continued, saying, “To be able to [Renew] with a simple spell is the realm of Wizards.

“Because here’s another fact to know: No two people cast the same magic.

“The Script makes this fact even more clear-cut, but even the Script has just codified something that has been true since the dawn of time. You see: When a person buys a spell from the Script for a point, that act of buying and accepting that spell into their soul, and then leveling that spell, is the creation of their own, personal mold in the magic. Their own coin-press, so that they can pop out the same spell they managed to cast that one time, again and again.

“Magic does not interact with other magic, not directly…

“I say that, but there’re caveats. There’s sympathetic magic or metamagic. Like [Dispel]. Or various exceedingly complicated spell-searching spells. Or any host of other minor overlaps. Even group-casting is only possible when everyone has the same spell, and even then your working might not work, for there are discrepancies between every mage, and small cracks might turn into chasms in a group-cast.

“But the fact is, is that no one truly casts from the same magic, so to create a [Renew], you would have to either make it through Paradox Wizardry, which would honestly be the easiest way, or you would have to make a spell that would…” Quilatalap went silent, thinking. When he started speaking again, his voice was much less negative. “But...” He offered, “Okay. So. As a thought experiment, there would have to be a tapping-into of the spell you wish to [Renew], and then an Altering of your own magic into something compatible with the target spell, and then you’d have to prop up what had come before… Somehow…” He went silent again. “It would be like trying to manually repair a house, and...”

Erick waited.

After a minute, Quilatalap said, “Outside of Wizardry, if such a spell were possible, it would be horribly mana inefficient, and it would be much higher than Basic Tier. You’d probably have to pull apart a Tear of Aloeth and try to recreate that divine magic, as a normal mage.”

Erick smiled wide. “That’s further than I’ve gotten!”

“Your foray into permanent magic will help you in this quest.” Quilatalap said, “But let’s talk about something else for a little while. I’ll keep thinking about your [Renew], though.”

“Okay!” Erick grinned, happily asked, “Next question! What is UP with that Thick Air! Or should I say, what is down with that thick air? It sinks pretty good.”

“Oh yes.” Quilatalap said, “That thick air you see when you [Cleanse] is another part of magic that the Script has merely codified, instead of outright changed.” Quilatalap said, “I will briefly lay out the most basic nature of magic.

“Mana comes in distinct Elements. Stone, Water, Air, Fire, Shadow, and Light. We’re ignoring all the rest for now. They exist. They matter. They don’t matter for this conversation.

“When these six combine in roughly equal measure, they form mana that is suitable for life, for balanced mana becomes something larger than the sum of its parts. But it is the breaking of that balance that leads to more life. In such a case, if there is a critical mass of life already in the area, that life eventually balances the mana out again, which leads to more life. This is a compounding cycle, where life creates mana and mana creates life.

“As long as the balance isn’t too unbalanced, that is. In such a case, life usually dies rather fast.

“But back to balanced mana: All the mana around us is partially tuned by the Script to be balanced, to generally enable life and magic. The Script keeps a loose rein on elemental balance, only truly fixing this balance when it breaks. It hasn’t broken many times since the creation of Veird, but— Eh. That’s history.

“Anyway.

“But aside from balance, mana also comes in density. Here, the Script readily enforces a good equilibrium. Not too solid, not too thin. You don’t see mana rocks on Veird, nor do you see mana vapors. All you really get is the manasphere, which is basically liquid mana.

“But consider this: in water, there is a triple point, where ice, water, and steam, can all exist at once. This is similar to what the Script does, all across Veird, all the time. But it’s not perfect. And neither is the balance of elements.

“Because life needs broken balances in order to grow and function.”

Erick was suddenly reminded of potential energy and heat energy and all the other energies he knew of, and how they related to life. Life could be said to exist in the broken balance between high and low energy states; in the drawing from high energy, to the using of that energy, to the expulsion of low energy. Erick smiled, as he saw a great deal of similarities between what Quilatalap was saying, and what he already knew.

Quilatalap continued, “So. Back to [Cleanse], and the nature of magic:

“In the Old Cosmology, if you wanted to cast a [Fireball] you needed fire mana. If you were in an area of very low fire mana, any [Fireball]s you cast would either fail, or end up as puffs of flame, and nothing more.

“Until you [Cleanse]d the space, and restored balance to the world.

“Restoring balance enabled that balance to be broken again. In this way, you could thus cast your [Fireball] at full strength.”

Erick said, “Ohh!”

Quilatalap said, “Since [Cleanse] has been codified in the Script, it has gained some additional functionality, but in the beginning, it was just the ritual to prepare a space for magic, and for life.” He added, “So when you [Cleanse], not only are you fixing the messes all around you, you’re also balancing the world with the matter turned to mana by that [Cleanse].” He finished with, “You hardly ever see it anymore, but if there’s not enough people [Cleanse]ing in a year, then the gods release large-scale [Cleanse]s all across the inner surface of the Edge of the Script, whereupon that thick air will fall through the world, toward the Core, fixing problems as it goes.”

Erick smiled. It was all so magical! And wonder—

“… Wait. So [Cleanse] turns matter into mana?” Erick said, “I mean… I see that happen all the time. But I didn’t expect it to actually mean what I thought it meant.”

“Yes. [Cleanse] turns matter into mana.” Quilatalap said, “In the other direction, mana becomes matter any time a slime is born. That’s also a major part of the mana cycle.”

“There’s a cycle?!” Erick instantly added, “I mean. Of course there is some sort of cycle?”

“There is. It’s an exceedingly complicated topic that is hard to explore on Veird, for reasons of the Script.” Quilatalap said, “And by the way: Slimes were the first [Cleanse]rs. They’re really good at balancing mana, too, if you let them. This is why slimes pop up in dungeons that have been tuned too far into one type of mana. They’re trying to re-balance the world by removing excess mana types and condensing them into their core.” Quilatalap stated, “This is how dungeoneering works: The dungeon creates an imbalance. Slimes move in to rectify that imbalance. People harvest that imbalance by harvesting the slimes. Repeat to infinity.

“Or, in a more natural setting, monsters or animals grow and spread by eating those slimes, and slimes eventually stop spawning because the imbalance is solved.” Quilatalap added, “But imbalances are almost never truly solved. There’s always more slimes spawning somewhere, in some unbalanced area.”

Erick felt like he had been slammed by knowledge.

“… Slimes are the basis for life on Veird?! And Magic?!”

Quilatalap said, “Slimes are born whenever there’s too much mana or imbalance. In being born, and in bringing balance, they thus enable more life to break that balance and flourish.”

Erick had visions of evolution, dancing in his brain. “Does it go somewhere from there? More complicated slimes? Multi-slime slimes?”

“Yes; all of that.” Quilatalap said, “Eventually, after thousands and thousands of years, slimes evolve— Back before the Script, I mean. Slimes evolved into higher lifeforms all the time, back then. Theoretically. I never saw it happen, but some immortals liked to watch it happen, and cause it to happen. There was always the occasional story of an intrepid scholar finding slimes with nervous systems or eyes, out there in the more remote parts of the Mana Ocean. But that doesn’t get a chance to happen on Veird. Not enough time. Not enough undisturbed slimes.” He whispered, saying, “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but back in the Old Cosmology, every learned person thought that our universe started with mana and slimes, and then worked up from there.”

Erick scrunched his face. He asked, “But what about the First Telling? With Melemizargo and Xoat?”

“A version of the truth, or completely true. I’m not sure; I wasn’t there.” Quilatalap shrugged. “What I do know is that the Clergy changes its dogma with each new dragon who takes up the mantle left by the old God of Magic, as each holder runs things a little bit differently. Now, I say that, and you should understand that names and timings and certain stories might have changed from one holder of that Dark Divine Spark to the next, but the First Telling about the Darkness meeting Xoat is almost certainly true. That one has never been told differently.

“But it’s also possible that all life was all slimes in the beginning.”