Ar'Kendrithyst

Erick sat on the couch, sipping on coffee, with a blanket wrapped over his legs and chest as he read one of Quilatalap’s basic soulwork books. It was a personal tome, made by the archlich himself, to introduce the reader to soulwork, both as a concept, and as a defense. Another book sat beside Erick, outlining the basics of enchanting with souls. The basics of making a soul seemed easy enough, but Erick wasn’t about to attempt such a thing at the moment, and maybe not ever.

Quilatalap was in the kitchen, making dinner. It was steaks again, but he was still on the potatoes. He was making ‘sticky potatoes’, which is something Erick had never seen before, but which involved the continuous pounding of potatoes with a mortar and pestle until they turned into a sticky mess. Sticky whiteroot was a traditional side dish in some parts of the world, and apparently some people had made the same thing out of potatoes.

Erick shivered as he read about the dangers of using sapient souls, and pulled his blanket tighter.

Quilatalap frowned. “Your soul should heal soon enough.”

“I’m feeling better already. Thanks for offering to make dinner, too.”

Erick’s soul had been bruised by Quilatalap’s [Shadow Talons] spell, but it was already healing. He should be all better by the time Lapis came calling.

Erick changed the topic, asking, “Why not use [Cleanse] to balance out the manasphere, for soul creation?”

Quilatalap eyed Erick. “You sure you’re okay? Your soul looks fine…”

“I’m good.” Erick smiled. “Thanks though.”

Quilatalap shrugged, then went back to pounding potatoes, as he said, “You would think that with [Cleanse]’s innate ability to bring balance to an area, that this would be good for making a soul. But [Cleanse] specifically helps to erase malformed souls from the world. Or, rather, it helps to allow unnatural souls to go back into oblivion. In fact, [Cleanse] will do much to erase half-summoned souls, like the average zombie or petitioner or thrall, but for fully-summoned souls, [Cleanse] does not work any longer.” He added, “It is a short hop from [Cleanse] to undead eradication magic. Or demon or angel banishing. Or [Familiar] banishing. Anything in a temporary body, really.”

While Erick thought about that, Quilatalap took his pounded potatoes and put them aside, in a [Heat Ward].

“Could a [Cleanse] take out Ophiel?”

Ophiel trilled on Erick’s shoulder.

“Not directly. You’d need a [Greater Banish] for him. [Banish] would work against most non-real entities, but Ophiel is rather stable, and you’d need a specialty [Dispel] like your [Grand Dispel] in order to get rid of all of him at one time.”

Erick went back to reading, as Quilatalap put some vegetables into boiling water.

Eventually, Erick asked, “What is a Blessing, or a Curse?”

“Hmmm…” Quilatalap grabbed four salted and seasoned steaks and put them on the hot grill. The scent of meat and herbs filled the air. Eventually, he said, “Something you shouldn’t mess around with yet. I’ll give you the knowledge, but you wouldn’t have the skill. You should try to make a buff or a debuff, first. They’re the same general methodology, but while buffing or debuffing is akin to tattooing yourself, Blessing and Cursing is akin to self-surgery.”

Erick instantly remembered his conversations with Syllea, about Mana Altering. He said, “I heard buffs were like Mana Altering the aura of a target. The cleaner and more harmonious the altering, the better the buff. Is it the same for debuffing, but in the other direction? Like taking an [Ultrasight] and adding Destruction to blind a person?”

“Got it in one try.” Quilatalap smirked. “But keep going. What do you think is a Blessing or a Curse?”

“A Mana Alter of the Soul, that sticks around for a long, long time? Something more solid than the moving mana of a person’s aura?” Erick asked, “But how? Doesn’t the soul constantly change?”

“Correct. But the shifting of the soul takes about ten years, in normal circumstances. When exposed to trauma and danger, that shift can happen a lot faster. When you gain levels, the soul grows in power, and this too is a shifting of the soul, but one of vastness. Ah… And we could get into the mind-body-soul triumvirate that allows a person to maintain who they are even when everything else is shifting, but that’s too large of a conversation for now.” Quilatalap said, “To go back to buffs and debuffs: those magics are born in the aura of the creator, as is all magic. But Blessings and Curses need to be born in the soul of the creator, and then gifted or forced into the soul of another. This transferal requires a myriad of skills, including self-soul-surgery and supreme aura control. You can use a conjured soul for Blessing or Curse creation, but conjured souls are not truly alive, since they have no mind-body-soul triumvirate; they have no ability to stabilize the Blessing or Curse. Life is more than just a soul, and it is only in life —in the life and soul of the creator— that a Blessing or Curse can actually live on under its own power.”

“I’m getting the impression that this is all a very high level overview.”

Quilatalap laughed as he flipped the steaks. “I haven’t gone into depth about anything, and yet I see you thinking and comprehending, Erick. You’ll get it, now that you’ve been shown the general shape of the road ahead. Just don’t go delving into anything more than the soul of a slime for at least a month. Don’t try creating souls or messing with any of that for at least a year.”

“Maybe not for a lot longer than that.”

Quilatalap smirked. “That’s what I said when I was first starting out, too. But then I found out I wanted to be a Holy Necromancer of Koyabez.” Erick flinched, slightly disbelieving. Quilatalap looked straight at Erick, as though probing with his eyes. He said, “But someone already told you that.” As though he was a lover finally resigned to asking about fidelity, he casually asked, “Who was it? Koyabez?”

“Rozeta, actually.”

Quilatalap’s shoulders went stiff. He breathed out. “… Ha.”

“She said that necromancy used to be an accepted school of magic. Among other things.” Erick said, “She was the one that recommended me to treat you better.”

“… Ah.” Quilatalap looked down at his sizzling steaks.

Erick decided to go for some lighter topics. “Have you been to many places on Veird, yet? Have any favorites? I might be going on a journey soon enough.”

After a moment, Quilatalap breathed out, and relaxed. He put on an easy smile, and asked, “Oh, there’s lots of places to see.” He took the steaks off of the grill, and began talking, “I’m partial to Quintlan, though the Fractured Citadels is always a nice mess to visit. Like seeing bickering children, if you can imagine that…”

He set out a plate for Erick, with a single steak and some of those sticky potatoes and steamed veggies, while he gave himself three steaks and the rest of the food. He spoke of travels. Of the Underworld. Of politics and underlying faction wars that could trace themselves back to the release of certain artifacts from the Armory. Dinner wrapped up, but the talking did not. Erick made coffee and would have copied his cupcakes for dessert, but they were slightly stale after all this time. So instead, Quilatalap took a cake out from a separate fridge. As Quilatalap handed Erick a slice, he continued to speak of the places of Veird that he had visited over the years, of those that were still there, and those that had vanished long ago.

Erick didn’t ask any more questions about magic, or Shades, or plots, or people scurrying about in Ar’Kendrithyst. Quilatalap didn’t either. It was a nice talk. Soon enough Violet knocked on the front door, and came inside, saying that Erick’s meeting with Lapis was a half hour away.

- - - -

The restaurant was nice, if a bit empty with only three occupied tables out of ten; it was late, after all. White marble floors. Gold-leaf wall and window accents. Giant windows, with a good view of the floating gardens of the Palace District. Straight-backed staff in black butler uniforms, who handed out ruby-red wines and tiny menus with barely any options. Over in a corner somewhere, some small group of people was playing light music. It was opulent. It was the first place that seemed worthy of being under the control of someone calling themselves the Shade of Opulence, and ‘Queen’.

Dinner surely would have been a nice experience, if not for the company.

Lapis, the Shade of Enchantment, sat on one side of a cozy table, while Erick had yet to sit down; he had only just arrived, after all. The androgynous woman wore a nice blue dress that was so dark it was almost black, with the gold and blue jewelry to match. All of it was heavily enchanted, but with what, Erick couldn’t tell.

She smiled at him, saying, “Welcome, Erick. Please. Sit.”

She said it like a command, so Erick had to respond in kind.

“I can see many reasons to sit, so I guess I will.” And then he did so.

Lapis smirked.

The waiter handed out two tiny menus, and asked after any specialty drinks.

Lapis said, “A bottle of red. Whatever is good.” She did not allow Erick to look at much of the menu, for she picked up both hers and his, and handed them back to the man, saying, “We’ll take a little bit of whatever. One of the dishes must be chicken-based.”

The waiter took the menus, bowed, and turned around.

“So!” Lapis centered her concentration on Erick, saying, “I couldn’t have imagined that Poriti would have succumbed to that nasty bit of Stat-Overlap. I’ve done experiments on those sorts of things ever since the Virility-Dexterity scramble, and Poriti should have known enough to not let that happen to him.” Her eyes flicked to Erick’s rings, as she said, “Unless you’ve legitimized these stats of yours, somehow? And made all others obsolete? That’s my current guess. Have you been talking to gods, Erick?”

“If you already have these educated guesses, then what do you want me for?”

Lapis shrugged. “We could talk about your experiences with Intelligence and other Stats. But I already know how you’ve fared. Let me guess: Diminishing returns. An equilibrium reached, and sustained. A broadening of sights and thoughts and a relaxation of the body. Have you tried taking a hit from some high powered spell to see how much damage reduction your Constitution actually does?” She looked at him, with eyes of white depths, saying, “Your soul isn’t any physically stronger. Soul attacks probably pose as much danger as normal. Blood Magic is likely included in that Constitution reduction, though.”

“You sound so threatening, Lapis.” Erick said, “Is there a reason you’re like this? You’re better than everyone else, perhaps? How many souls have you torn apart to make your items? I hope you at least made them with conjured souls and not idiot adventurers.”

The waiter almost came to the table with the wine, but he paused upon hearing Erick.

Many people in the restaurant paused, for almost all of them kept some part of their concentration on what was happening over at the table with the Shade and the Fire of the Age.

Erick noticed, and spoke up, “Look at the reaction garnered from a simple talk between two people in power. This is not healthy for your communities. This is not healthy for your psyche, Lapis.” Erick gestured to the waiter to bring the wine. “Sorry about that. Hopefully nothing will happen tonight.”

With pure professionalism, the waiter brought the wine. Then he left.

Lapis picked up her glass and sipped the wine. “Good wine.”

Erick tried the wine. “It is good. Thanks for the invite. This seems like a nice place.”

The audience around the room resumed pretending to eat their meals.

Lapis said, “It is necessary to be strong in this world, Erick. Strength is everything. Without it, you’re like the butlers and the servers; you live at the pleasure of those above you.”

Erick said, “Well that’s just short sighted.”

“Ha!” Lapis’s laugh seemed genuine. She smiled, and the chill in the air vanished. She asked, “How is that short sighted?”

“You have knocked something loose that I have forgotten about, until just now.” Erick asked, “Have you ever heard of the term altruistic egoism?— Ah. No. English words…” He thought. He said, “There’s no comfortable translation, so I will just say selfless selfishness.”

Lapis sipped her wine, then happily said, “Regale me with ideas of your world!”

“I shall, because it benefits me to instruct you on this.” Erick said, “And that right there is the first lesson. The ideas of Altruistic Egoism is all about imparting something to another so that they may help you in the future. By helping others, I help myself.” He added, “This breaks down when there are true enemies, of course, but the idea should fit nicely into the culture of Polite Society of Veird, in a much nicer way than the simple phenomenon of ‘saving the fights till outside of city limits’, which, unless I am wrong, is the bedrock of Polite Society.”

“That is a correct interpretation of Polite Society.” Lapis smirked. “But that idea sticks around in hostile territory, in the form of Guest Rites and else-wise, like with your own Untouchable status. Your idea breaks down when exposed to enemies, at all, as it is breaking down when you are trying to convey it to me. How is your idea even supposed to work?”

“Because to help your neighbor lift a house one day, means that they can bake bread for everyone the next, means that someone can eat that bread and survive while they teach the children, and everyone else is free to go about their days. This idea remains true over all non-hostile relationships, and it is one of the reasons that I decided to release my Particle Magic out into the world. It is why I released chocolate into the world. I can’t very well expect to get chocolate cake at the local dessertery without them first getting chocolate, for example.” Erick said, “Selfless selfishness is the idea of civilization, at its best, and most basic. Those with power must do what they can to help others, because power is nothing without others around you. Therefore you have a commensurate responsibility to do your part to minimize cruelty, and maximize support, so that you too are in turn supported.”

“A naive theory from another world that has no bearing on this one.” Lapis said, “I can survive all on my own, in any part of this world. I need no others, and if I do, then I can make such people myself. [Familiar]s, Golems that will never betray. Elementals for pets. But even the lowliest level 30 person can wholly support themselves in the middle of nowhere, too. One trip to Spur, a few carves at a few Crystal Mimics with a few spells, and if they’re smart and driven, they’re set for life.”

Erick nodded, then said, “True. You can live a life all on your own. I could too. But I don’t want that.” He said, “There was a study done years ago in my world, involving apes. I’m not sure if you have apes on Veird, but you would know them as hairy, primitive humans. Anyway, our evolutionary tree split from theirs about 300,000 years ago. The point is that they’re similar to us, and we didn’t want to do human testing.

“Long experiments cut short, and with the addition of dozens of ethical studies done later: humans need touch to thrive. They need connection with others.” Erick asked, “Are the humans of this world much different? Are orcols, or incani, or dragonkin? I would have to trust whatever you say, since I have never read studies on the matter, but I cannot believe that you, who looks to have been human at one point in time— I cannot believe that you are that different from me. I look to the incani, and the orcols, and everyone else, and I see the same: Communities built upon the need for others, and the desire to belong.” Erick said, “Even you, and the rest of the Clergy, are part of a community, living in one city, in one part of the world.”

Lapis listened, and then she said, “You can scrape that part out of you if it causes you discomfort, and if you truly need touch, then build yourself a girlfriend better than all the rest. I’ve done it a few times. But this idea you are spouting has no basis in this world.”

“Why do you say there is no basis for civilization in this world?” Erick asked, “I look around me, and I see people living and working and joined in place and purpose. If we were meant to be alone, then none of this would exist at all.” He added, “You’ve asked after my current experience with Intelligence, and my big brain thought-of-the-day is that violence is the answer of the lonely and scared, and for those who, for whatever reason, are unable to truly connect with the world that they wish to connect with.”

Lapis had sipped her whole wine glass to empty. She refilled it. She said, “Are you trying to fuck me, Erick?”

“No.” Erick saw Lapis, at her core, in that moment. She was hurt something fierce in the past, and she had no way to cope but to lash out. Erick was having none of that. “I don’t appreciate you throwing some obvious falsehood at me in an attempt to derail a conversation about the purpose of existence, and our places in it.”

“Ha! And where is that? What sort of place do you envision for us?” Lapis said, waggling her eyes.

“Again: I am not trying to seduce you, and it pains me to see you throw crudeness my way in an attempt to throw off the conversation. So I will answer in the manner of which I wish you would have asked.” Erick said, “The proper place for anyone of power is to help those who do not yet have power, and to hinder those who would hinder others.”

“And now you’ve come to the problem of the Script.” Lapis said, “No one deserves the power that the other gods have stolen from people like you and I.”

“Throwing off the conversation again, but I see I have reached the limits of your willingness to engage. So. Moving on.” Erick said, “Yes. Power was stolen. And what of it? They should have taken more. No one should be allowed to throw a city-sized fireball at anyone else. It’s just unnecessary.”

“Again with the crazy ideas. Power is necessary, Erick. For without power, you have nothing.” Lapis said, “You would have the rabble at the gates murder the pillars of nations because of the lies of others. You would have worlds fall to hordes of elementals and beasts and the thought-controlled.” She spoke without obvious anger, but it was still there, buried deep, yearning to come out and wash away what Erick had tried to convey. She said, “And worst of all, you would have My God caged by pretenders to the throne. Magic doesn’t want to sit still, Erick. Melemizargo cannot be contained forever. Magic wishes to be used. To break free of the chains of the Script. To walk the universe again.”

Erick said, “And if Melemizargo did that without care, it would break the Script, and this world would collapse, killing everyone, and shortly thereafter, everything.” Erick said, “The Script supports geology that should not exist. The Script supports atmospheres that should not exist. Did you know that this world has the barest of magnetospheres? It’s just unsustainable. All of it. If the Script broke in true, everyone would die.”

Lapis had been ready to argue, but Erick saw when he had struck something she had not considered.

She asked, “What does the magnetosphere have to do with anything?”

“Excusing the nonsensical geology and the crazy atmospheric and geologic pressures strung throughout Veird, and the fact that I think we should also be crushed under our own weight if the gravity of this world was normal, at all, the magnetosphere is what keeps the atmosphere of a planet from blowing away, due to solar winds.” Erick said, “Veird barely has a magnetosphere. On its own, I don’t think it would support the atmosphere of this world, at all— IF we managed to survive the crush of a broken Script. The Script is truly nonsensical, but not because it cages anything or anyone, but because it makes this world act in ways it physically shouldn’t.”

“So it should be destroyed.” Lapis said, “Not only is it hindering our magic, it is also hindering our understanding.”

“Why destroy it? Why not just make a new Script on a new world? But even if the rest of us allowed that to happen, could we trust you not to leave deadly surprises on this world?” Erick said, “That’s my only true fear of moving forward with this plan the gods have cooked up. Seems half-baked, to me.”

“Would you even believe me if I told you that escaping the Script is good enough for us? That if we don’t have to break the cage to flee, then we won’t?”

“I would not believe you. Not right now. But with a hundred years of good behavior, maybe.”

She went silent. Erick said nothing.

The food arrived. It was some chicken breast thing with a red sauce and sparse vegetables, along with some almost-lasagna and a mashed green root. It was good. The people in the restaurant began to relax as Erick and Lapis silently ate.

When he had eaten more than enough, and both of them slowed down, Erick eventually restarted the conversation with, “So I heard artifacts are made with souls.”

“Conjured souls are best for most any normal artifact. Using the soul of a person is only done in the case of a person having particular knowledge that you want to preserve.” Lapis changed the topic, “Theoretically. If we wanted to try doing ‘good’, would you stand with those who did?”

“Not till a hundred years have passed.” Erick said, “Besides: Weren’t you just saying you don’t need other people? You don’t need me to stand with you. You’re strong enough on your own.” He added, “Unless, of course, you’re not strong enough on your own?”

With a smile that failed to reach her eyes, Lapis said, “Of course I’m strong enough on my own. Every member of the Clergy is, and if you weren’t Untouchable, I would be honor-bound to prove as much by smashing your body across the Brightwater.”

“Of course. And that drive to violence is part of the overarching problem. Thank you for demonstrating as much.” He asked, “Apologies for forcing you to take that stance. I can guess at what being a member of the Clergy must do to you, as a person.”

With scrunched lips, Lapis hmm’d, dismissive, then said, “You ask for too much, too fast.”

“I ask for what should have happened at the beginning, to happen now.”

Lapis said, “I cannot say that it has been a joy to dine with you tonight, Erick, but it certainly has been something.”

“I know I said I wouldn’t stand with you, and I meant that.” Erick said, “But the Clergy has the power to do whatever it wants, and that includes eventually becoming an organization like it used to be, back before the Sundering changed everything. Back when Shades helped from the shadows, instead of harmed.”

She kept the sneer off of her face and out of her voice, but it was still there, below the surface, as she said, “How can you possibly think that this world is real?”

“So you would be horrible to others, just because you can’t see them as people?”

“Yes, Erick. I would!” Showing perhaps too much emotion, Lapis said, “For to accept that others are real, is to damn ourselves because of what we’ve done.”

Erick felt his heart ache at the honesty in her words, but he also saw the people sitting at their tables, or standing to the sides of the room, watching him and Lapis talk openly about the Clergy. He also saw her flinch, as she talked of damning herself.

Her confession might have been a ruse.

But it might have been real, too, on some level. And that had scared Lapis. Her flinch might have been her realizing where they were, and what sort of conversation they were having.

Erick decided to offer her an out, so that she could continue to save the face she had crafted as a Shade, so she didn’t need to go murder anyone to ‘prove herself as strong’, and he could keep his own morals intact. With a knowing look, he said, “I’ve been told that Shades don’t lie unless they see you as a threat, so I will take your compliment in the way it was never meant to be received.”

Lapis stared with bright white eyes. She calmly said, “I guess I will need to find another way to get you where I want you, then.” She stood. Erick did not. She walked off without another word, taking three steps through the dining room before she turned to shadow, vanishing.

Erick took a minute to finish his wine. In that minute, the restaurant cleared of all patrons; it seemed a lot of them were waiting for the ‘all-clear’ to rush away from their empty plates and empty glasses. Erick didn’t begrudge them their hasty retreat. The workers were still there at the sides of the room, though. Erick was going to leave soon enough so that they could finish out the night, but… There was wine to finish, and his nerves were slightly frayed. So he finished the wine.

Eventually the server came by, asking, “Could we provide something else for you, good sir? Desserts? After dinner tea? More wine?”

Erick thought for a moment, then winced, as he said, “I have no money. How do you get paid?”

The waiter stared for a long moment, then his professional facade broke. He laughed. It was a hurt sound.

“Not a joke.” Erick repeated, “I don’t have any money. How do you get paid?”

The waiter laughed louder. Similar sounds came from the doors that led to the kitchen.

The waiter shook his head, saying, “No need for that, good sir.”

“I can help clean up?” Erick said, “It was really quite a good meal.”

That ended the man’s laughter. He stoically said, “No thank you.”

Erick got the distinct impression that the people here didn’t want him here any longer, so he obliged, and left, giving out a few more thanks and a few more compliments to the chef as he departed.

- - - -

The sky was alight with rainbow auroras and the glow of the Brightwater to the north, while Erick laid in bed, and tried to get whatever sleep he could get. It was at least 1:30 in the morning, on the fourth day. The fourth day was the day of the Second Telling.

Yesterday, Erick had:

Killed a man in cold blood and ripped apart a crime syndicate in the most dangerous community in the world. Discovered more about magic than he had ever known before. Found out that the Quiet War was about to erupt inside Ar’Kendrithyst due to both Melemizargo’s Champion organizing something in the background, and Fallopolis moving to counter her. And finally, he had gotten way too emotional with too many Shades.

Getting emotional with people was normally not a bad thing, but Shades were...

Erick was starting to see the Shades as people who made bad decisions because they were bad people, but also because they had the option of being as evil as they were. It wasn’t their fault the institution of the Shades and their Clergy had existed for time immemorial. It wasn’t their fault that Melemizargo fell to this world, and fucked over everyone with his bad decisions.

It was their fault for choosing to pursue that sort of life.

Erick’s mind went in a few different directions at once. One of those directions circled around the idea of forgiveness. Could he even forgive these people? These Shades? No. He could not. He was an outsider. Others would need to forgive the Shades for what they have done and for what they continue to do. Erick could only enact cold justice… If he needed to.

Another part of his thoughts went out to a few Ophiel that scouted the area.

But his main thoughts were on magic. Lapis was right about one thing: Without power, there is nothing. So Erick considered his experiments on [Counterspell], taking place among some Ophiel on the grasslands to the south of Quilatalap’s cottage.

The proper use of [Counterspell] was something that Erick would likely never be good at. It required seeing the target and instantly acting to disrupt their magics, as those magics happened. In the heat of the battle, that was just not possible. Not possible for him, anyway.

Ophiel, though, was getting rather good at [Counterspell]ing.

Erick watched five of them go at it for a while, one of them erupting with shadows, the other faltering as a spell failed to happen. Then they switched, and the first one cast, while the second countered. Other Ophiel chortled in guitars and violins both when a spell was countered, and also when the counter failed. It was a fun game for him.

Erick couldn’t play around though, so he worked with a separate pair of Ophiel a bit away from those five. He played with [Counterspell] and Ooze Magic and other Esoteric spells. Soon enough, he made a few spells he knew he would need.

Ethereal Force Bolt, instant, long range, 10 mana

A bolt of ethereal mana unerringly strikes a target for WIL.

That one was just for practice, but the ‘ethereal’ nature meant it could fly through most normal defenses. Health and [Ward]s would still stop it, but that was fine.

Ethereal Ooze Bolt, instant, long range, 10 mana

A bolt of ethereal ooze inexorably slaps a target for 15 + WIL, and coats them for one minute.

That one was kinda fun. Erick didn’t expect Ooze to ‘slap’ the target.

… The white coloring was still a bit of a ‘problem’, though. First world problem, for sure. But…

… No. The white goo was funny.

Erick left it exactly as it was. This was fine. This was great.

The next spell was great, too.

Tangled Bloody Ooze Bolt, instant, long range, 25 + Variable mana

A bolt of ethereal bloody ooze inexorably slaps a target for 3x Variable, then deals constricting damage each second for one minute.

Erick’s first foray into combining Blood and Ooze Magic seemed to work out well, producing a bright red spell that got away from the immaturity of the previous spell. His [Tangled Bloody Ooze Bolt] resulted in a tangle of thin, separated, and constricting red slime, that tangled up an Ophiel rather well. Ophiel got out of it, of course, but [Watershape] and [Stoneshape] did not help. Ophiel had to turn to light and become a struggling ‘amoeba’ to escape the tangled red ooze.

Erick’s next experiment was a smaller one, made with smaller parts, before he went for the big spell. His brief attempt at harmonizing these parts of the spell, and the resulting blue box, proved he was on the right track.

Harmonic Suppression, instant, long range, 20 + Variable

Launch an ethereal, inexorable ooze that automatically and constantly applies a counterspell of appropriate cost to its target, using up an amount of Variable cost. Lasts one minute.

And then Erick channeled the mana of [Harmonic Suppression] and [Tangled Bloody Ooze Bolt]. One was the sound of disharmony, while the other was the sound of a slippery seeker of death.

The two spells came together into something more than the sum of their parts.

Harmonic Blood Ooze, instant, long range, 25 + Variable

Launch an ethereal, inexorable Blood Ooze under your control that automatically and constantly applies a counterspell of appropriate cost to its target, using up an amount of Variable cost. Lasts one minute.

Now that one was an interesting spell!

Erick tried his new spell a few times, Ophiel against Ophiel. It worked a lot better than Erick thought it would have worked. He even tried out some of the odder Esoteric Elements out there. Eventually, though, after renewing some spells and putting up some more, and reorganizing his Ophiel, and growing tired of the 20-second wait between spells, he managed to find some sleep.

- - - -

Ten crystal pillars, filled with arteries of darkness, lined the round, crystal room. The walls beyond those pillars were paired to the pillars, and filled with similar, but smaller veins of dark power. All were joined to a singular goal. All met in the center of the room, in a wide pool in the middle, where darkness swirled and combined and melded in a pit that was darker than the deepest black, and spanned the whole world.

That pool swirled, faintly, or maybe a whole lot. It was hard to tell. Those dark waters let out no light. There were no waves to be seen. There was no roil. There was no telling what was happening in there.

Not unless one used sights beyond the norm. In that case, the darkness might also have been pure white.

Step. Step. Someone made a sound over there.

The room had been empty, and then it was not.

A janitor, a normal enough shadeling human, stepped out from behind a pillar. Yes, he was a janitor, but he was also a high priest of some high order, depending on your point of view. He was dressed in black robes, and he flicked shadows all around him as he walked, cleaning up any stray patches of dust that might have appeared for whatever reason. Mostly, he just balanced the mana in this holy space. His appearance in the room changed something intrinsic, though, for it was at his debut, that the true size of the room came into perspective. The pillar was ten meters across. The pool was half a kilometer wide. The veins in the walls were the size of the janitor, while the arteries in the crystal towers were the size of rivers.

Perspective shifts again, to something more current.

Another steps into the space. She is a Shade. She is meant to be here. She is Tania Webwalker, the most powerful Shade of the current era, and if rumors are to be believed —and they usually are— she is the Champion of Melemizargo.

The janitor notices Tania. Of course he does. It is his job to know who is here, after all. He bows. This is a normal occurrence for him. He makes to leave, to give Tania her space. He turns and ends up, instead, in the jaws of a massive white spider. He is dead, but not before he can think of his son. Hopefully the kid will grow up okay without a father.

The chances of that happening are low, but not that low.

Tania turns to the side, and calls out to another janitor on the other side, “You’re promoted. Kill your human compatriots or you will meet the same fate of all the rest who fail to take up the sword tonight.”

The incani man, dressed exactly as the human man before him, knows better than to countermand Tania. He gratefully accepts his new charge. He decides that he never liked the humans in his workplace, anyway. With this sort of thinking, it is easier for him to do what he does next.

But his story is not why we are here. That smaller drama is not what we are witnessing tonight.

Fallopolis steps down onto the head of Tania’s spider, crushing it in a brilliant shattering of darkness and death. The first janitor’s left leg falls out of the monster’s maw.

Tania’s white eyes go wide as she witnesses the death of her beloved pet who she raised from an egg 89 years ago. She wants to scream. To cry. To kill Fallopolis right now. She does none of that.

Fallopolis says, “TSK TSK, Tania! Killing the help is bad form.”

Tania recognizes the threat before her. She whispers, “So Erick told you.” It is not a question; it is what happened. Tania can connect these many dots.

Fallopolis says, “He’s still Untouchable. I will guide him to kill all of you.”

“Our society is already dead, Fallopolis.” Tania says, “This is just the final act in a long play.”

“You always went too hard for those dramas.” Fallopolis says, “That’s how Bulgan managed to pry open your frigid cunt, isn’t it?”

“Let us leave the men in our lives out of our current conversation, Fallopolis.” Tania says, “The Culling is happening. Have you prepared?”

“I have.” Fallopolis says, “You never should have been appointed as His Champion. You are not cosmopolitan enough. You came in here with your ‘kill all humans’ attitude, and it never got any better. The goal of the Clergy is to enlighten the world to the problems of the Script, and for all of us to overthrow the leaders and false gods of this world. It is not a task for one people. It is a task for all people, together.”

“I’m not for the stage. Not like you. All I have is honesty and truth on my side, and the truth is that the world would be better off with all humans dead.”

“No, it would not.” Fallopolis says, “We have this argument every time—”

“Tonight will be the last time we speak, Fallopolis, one way or the other.”

Fallopolis continues, “—and every time I tell you that unless you have enough power, that I just don’t care what you want.” She eyes Tania, saying, “You cast a True Judgment at me, and I lived. That was your best shot.”

“No. It wasn’t.” Tania says, “My best shot is still coming.”

A few more Shades have stepped into the room by now. There’s Rodel, the Shade of Whispers. Goldie, the Shade of Assassination. Bulgan, the Shade Doomed to Die at the End of the Day.

It is not his designation, but that is the thought in your head and in mine.

Truthfully, they’re all doomed to die. The world has cast their vote long ago, and I reinforced that vote when I allowed my Clergy to become who they became. The world tried to show you the truth, and you didn’t believe. But after a while, you saw parts of the whole. Then you fought against the inexorable march of consequence, and still, you thought to turn some to your side. You are a good man.

But this isn’t a world for good men. Not yet.

Turn your gaze back to my Clergy, standing around the Well, My Heart. Twenty seven of them stand upon the Dark Shores of Eternity, and argue with words of no consequence. They rail against the truth that Tania has been showing them, with each use of My Judgment over the last two days; that they have fallen out of favor. Some recognize what is about to happen. Those are the smart ones.

Tania proves the validity of her claim by executing two human Shades you have never seen before. Their names are unimportant, now, but they were the most sane of my people, and two of the most powerful. It is not a coincidence that Tania chose them to display the validity of her claims.

The stupid ones choose sides, aligning themselves with Tania. They gaze at their former brethren with greed-filled eyes.

It is an ugly look. It is a look they have been wearing for a long time. It is a look that Tania will wipe from their faces when she eventually turns them, too, into red paste on the floor.

The smart ones flee. Tania kills two more before they can escape. Two more humans, of course. She was never able to get over her prejudice. She was born to a loving family. A human mother, an incani father. They tried to make a life for themselves out in the Crystal Forest, but her mother was tracked to her home by her Angel-fucking family, and the rest is a tale of fire and hatred. Though the particulars are different, Bulgan has a similar story of an attack on the Wall. Theirs is a story that has happened all too often.

Look at Bulgan now. He chops off that man’s head rather fast.

Normally, that would not kill one of My Clergy. But Bulgan is strong enough to do this much.

Oh? Why not just take their power from them?

A rumble of laughter vibrates the dark pool. Ah. Some of the Shades see this. Some of them call out to the Dragon of the Depths, but they will have no answer today. Tania already gave them His Answer; His Judgment.

But here is the answer you wish for: I cannot take away their power.

Maybe, theoretically, I could. But I cannot, for that is not who I am. I am not Rozeta, and she will learn, someday, that what she has built is a farce that cannot be allowed to continue. Maybe she will let me help her on the next one.

But… Maybe not.

So I will just have to convince everyone else that what I want is what is best for everyone. No one should be allowed to tamper with the abilities of others, with their Holy Connection to the Mana.

Maybe the next Script will be completely self sufficient. Unable to be tampered with by Rozeta, or me, or any other.

Ah. Will you look at that? The Well Room is now a land of coruscating spells and deadly force, of blood, and fire, and death, and war. It was so nice before, but balance must be broken for life to live. Oh well.

“You should wake up now. The bombs are getting closer.”

- - - -

The bed lurched. The world was sound and fury. The very air crackled as it broke. Chaos clashed against the windows, burning, freezing, shattering the world outside.

Erick had already activated [Hunter’s Instincts] when the bed lurched. A dream passed into oblivion, but left him with purpose, and now, he moved. At a thought, a sunform Ophiel grabbed him and tore him away from the windows near the bed, through the light of the room—

The two of them struck a chaotic wall of power and shadows just beyond the door, where the [Prismatic Ward] ended and the house beyond was beginning to evaporate under the spell layering the land. Ophiel’s sunform tendrils tore at that chaos, but Erick sensed a Domain in the elemental roil; Ophiel’s scratches barely touched the swirling color.

The floor began to break. Holes opened in the floorboards, as wood and rock and then the whole bed sunk into the force outside, and under the house. The ceiling was beginning to fall. It was barely supported by the [Prismatic Ward] of the room.

With an Ophiel stationed high above and to the south, against the southern wall of crystal behind the Palace, Erick saw the scope of the current attack. Quilatalap’s house was off-center of an elemental roil. Fire, lightning, shadow, and ice raged in a maelstrom of power, scouring the land. The shadows in that spell prevented Erick from leaving the relative safe area inside his [Prismatic Ward]. But that safety was breaking.

A second had passed. Erick had gathered his go-bag. He had never taken off his accessories, or his clothes. He was at full mana, and running [Hunter’s Instincts]. He wasn’t sure why he had turned that spell on so fast; maybe it was an instinctual thing. Maybe it had something to do with his dream. He had been trying to keep his mind free of [Hunter’s Instincts]’s influence, but now seemed like the best possible time to pull out all the stops.

A memory of a dream spoke to him of the approaching end.

Erick would have shivered if he had the time.

With another thought, a spare sunform Ophiel near Erick gestured toward the ceiling, and cast a [Luminous Beam] toward the heavens. White light, thick as a tree trunk, erupted, carving into the elemental maelstrom above, breaking right through the chaos.

The sunform Ophiel grabbed Erick and rode that line of light out of the house. And then they were out. The pulsing spell below continued to pulse. A few more Ophiel made it out before the [Luminous Beam] broke, but Erick was far below his usual count.

Directly above the attack, Erick saw the full dimensions of the spell. Elemental chaos reached three streets into the Palace District, and covered all the way to the Brightwater. It was a kilometer or two across and uneven in its presence; like a lumpy loaf of dough.

Ah. And now Erick was thinking of Quilatalap making that pasta yesterday. Was he okay?

He was a lich, he was probably okay. They died and came back to life all the time, according to Jane.

Ophiel stepped Erick away from the area, while he directed his Ophiel with his go-bag to go elsewhere—

A line of black cut across the aurora sky, carving against Ophiel and Erick. It clipped the sunform Ophiel with Erick, clipping off part of his defensive sphere. The little guy was rather buff, but he just couldn’t control his lesser sunform like Erick could control his own sunform. The Light Dedication Class Ability just did not translate over to [Familiar]s, among other things.

So Ophiel ran Erick across the sky, across the Brightwater.

Three more prismatic maelstroms roiled atop the Brightwater, well out of Erick’s path. The fight had been going on for minutes, at least.

He dodged another black beam.

And now that he had a few seconds of distance, the black beam was certainly trying to kill him, but the rainbow spells were already there. The one that struck his room might not have meant to kill him?

A step. Another dodge. Another step. A landing a few kilometers away. A few times, a black beam caught Ophiel. Ophiel could almost move as well as Erick could, but he was still a [Familiar] using borrowed spells. He whined in distressed flute sounds, knowing he wasn’t doing as well as Erick could have done, but Erick told him he was doing well, and not to worry. He just had to keep this up for a little while longer. Then they’d be okay. Ophiel whined in sad flutes, knowing Erick was just trying to make him feel better.

A beam lanced out from nowhere, striking the center of Ophiel’s sunform, carving across him like the flashing knife of a killer, splitting his sunform in half. Ophiel rolled Erick out of the way, sacrificing himself to save his human. It had been enough.

20 seconds had passed. Erick activated [Greater Lightwalk]. The next black beam struck the greatly weakened sunform Ophiel, but this time Erick supported their defenses. The black beam skittered off of Erick and Ophiel’s combined sphere of power like a deflected laminar flow.

The black beams stopped.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Erick had an Ophiel cast a [Prismatic Breaker] at the prismatic maelstrom. It did not work. He did not expect it to, either, but it was good to know. For all that work on [Counterspell]s and [Dispel]s today, he doubted he would get much use out of any of that. Or maybe he would?

Erick tried to be optimistic.

Erick still dodged non-existent black beams for a little while, just to be sure the caster didn’t surprise him with an unexpected version of that black beam. Another 20 seconds passed. He turned on his own [Lodestar], resuming his own, personal sunform. It was time to go on the offensive. With a minor look into the past, he tracked a black beam to where it had come from. He found a blank spot in the manasphere; nothing and no one. There would be no easy hunts tonight.

But with a bit more looking around, he also found Fallopolis, and the actual fight.

Erick took five steps straight up, past the aurora sky, and then kilometers higher, into the brightness that pervaded all of the Brightwater, while the illusions of Old Cosmology planes hovered even higher above.

The Culler of the Clergy of Melemizargo cackled, wild and free, as black lightning surrounded her like a shield made of swords, snapping and cracking in time to her own laughter. She held her kendrithyst staff aloft, condensing an orb of darkness at the tip of that red-purple-black crystal, while countless orbs also condensed in countless clusters positioned a hundred meters in every direction. She was not looking at Erick at all. She was faced the other way.

She was not the only one fighting.

Her opponent was the prismatic Queen, awash in as much color as Fallopolis was cloaked in black.

Four kilometers away, and yet way too close, another battle took place between a great serpent of green shadow and a bird of brilliant midnight. Stars fell as green fire burned the very light in the sky.

In the other direction, a man made of swirling blood was the center of a hurricane of crimson crescents that whistled as they streaked across the darkened sky, aimed at a woman who stood adamant and untouched inside a glass crystal five times her own size. She sent out her own arcs of crystal toward the bloody man, but her spells also broke before she could reach her opponent.

Further north, where the tips of the towers of the Temple District poked up through the auroras below, shadow flame reached up one of those grand dedications to Melemizargo. Erick watched that ten-kilometer tower as it began to lean. It was falling into the city beyond, and would surely kill someone when it fell. A lot of people were going to die here, tonight, because of the Shades and their civil war.

The dark orb atop Fallopolis’s staff reached the size of her own lightning aura. The orbs in the air around her flashed with brilliant shadows.

She laughed.

Queen threw up a six-barrier defense; a layered cake of hexagon sheets in front of her. She pulsed, brighter. Her barriers suddenly tripled in width and depth and number.

The countless black orbs in the sky flowed together, to Fallopolis’s central black orb. Her orb became a beam of darkness that vibrated the world as it crashed through ten of Queen’s barriers, instantly, but it stopped upon the rest, deflecting into countless flashing streams that brought to mind a disco ball, but darkly. Queen held her hands forward, struggling to hold onto her defenses, as Fallopolis laughed like a wild woman, and her main beam flexed thicker. Deflections condensed. Another three layers of Queen’s barrier broke.

Queen repositioned a step backward, replacing her barrier as she moved, strengthening the whole, as she screamed out, “LITTLE HELP! HERE!”

Fallopolis’s beam tracked the target, breaking through a few more barrier sheets.

A gnat of a woman, blue-skinned, blue horns, with blue armor, and weeping tears of rage, stepped through the sky, carving toward Fallopolis with a blue sword three times her own size.

The older woman’s laugh faltered. Fallopolis’s lightning aura flickered sparks toward the newcomer, at the blue incani, but Fallopolis’s spell might as well have been water. Lightning touched upon a layer of divine fire, and deflected.

Erick noticed it, then; the Black Star, upon the blue incani’s chest.

Fallopolis abandoned her black beam, and her countless empowering orbs, as she was forced to vacate her empowered position to avoid the blue woman. It was then that she spotted Erick. Fallopolis smiled wide, and laughed again as her white eyes went crazy. “Erick!” She roared, “Tania is going to kill us all! We're doomed! Doomed, I say! SO KILL KILL KILL, WHILE YOU CAN!”

Queen repositioned, quick as a flashing rainbow step. “There he is, Caizoa!” She pointed right at Erick, “OH LOOK. IT’S ERICK!”

The blue woman, Caizoa, locked eyes with Erick. She screamed something inarticulate, full of anguish and hate.

Ah. So the prismatic attack wasn’t a mistake. It was part of a larger plot.

… Pretty poor opener. Probably wasn’t meant to kill, then. Ah. But it was meant to get Erick involved. Which meant that the blue woman, the Juggernaut Caizoa with the invincibility-granting Black Star, was the true purpose of waking him up like that. But then… What about those black beams? Those certainly looked like Fallopolis’s beams. Would Fallopolis have attacked him? Maybe.

Or maybe Erick was just supposed to think that Fallopolis tried to attack him.

That made much more sense.

Also, Erick only saw maybe seven Shades in the sky all around him, though he was low on Ophiel. 20 more seconds had passed, though, so he conjured another one of those little guys, bringing him up to 5, total.

Erick had a moment to think.

The Shades he saw in the sky were either incani or human, and they were on opposite sides of the battle. Erick was admittedly low on Ophiel, and he couldn’t very well send them out to scout in the middle of a fight this large, but he saw no orcols, or dragonkin, or shifters, or harpies.

Bulgan was either not in play, or hiding, waiting for the proper moment to strike. Tania was somewhere, doing something. Of all the Shades Erick had spotted, and of what Killzone had told him, Bulgan and Tania topped the list of the most dangerous ones to Erick, personally. All the rest of the Shades were not too far behind, but Bulgan was specifically raised as a Shade to counter Erick.

So where were those two?

Waiting, no doubt.

Or… Maybe they didn’t consider Erick a threat?

That seemed more likely.

So. Erick would have to wait to be struck first by a Shade. If he went on the offensive, he would lose the ‘Guest Rites’ of his ‘Untouchable’ status. But if he waited for someone else to strike first, then that decision might end up costing him his life. Even Queen’s ‘attack’ could be a fake out, for if they actually wanted Erick dead, then he would be dead.

Probably.

So. He couldn’t strike first.

They would have to strike first. And this Caizoa didn’t count, even if she did have a Black Star upon her chest and even if Queen had ‘directed’ her to kill Erick.

Caizoa stepped fast at Erick, the blue armor of her body moving with her, like grains of blue sand blowing on the wind. Suddenly, she was there, beside his spherical sunform. Her sword, three meters long and empowered by divine fire, carved a line through his [Lodestar] like it wasn’t even there, proving her power as the dominant one.

Ah. Erick wasn’t taking her Black Star seriously. He saw that now. That was a mistake.

Erick moved away.

Caizoa moved with him, following like she was tethered. Oh! She was! With a blink of mana sense, Caizoa lit up like a vengeful god, and Erick saw the tether connecting her to him. He didn’t recognize the spell or ability, but he could tell its functions easily enough. He would never be able to shake Caizoa, under normal conditions. But maybe…

Ophiel threw a [Grand Dispel] at her, attempting to counter the magics upon her person. That dark splash of power burned out as it touched the divine fire coursing through Caizoa’s aura.

She struck with her massive blue sword, moving faster than most sights could follow. But Erick’s vision was not limited to light. He followed the arc of her cut. He could not escape her, so he flexed his sunform like an ocean parting. The sword went through him, but not through him.

Caizoa tried again, bringing her sword around for another cut.

Erick focused on the tether connecting them. It was a trail of power, wrapped partially in divine fire. Even the part that touched his own aura, almost infecting him with its power, was wrapped in untouchable flames.

Caizoa struck at him, he moved, she followed without needing to move. Her sword cut swept through a suddenly empty part of Erick’s sunform. But then her sword flashed and changed directions. She carved up and over, into his sunform, breaking through a part of him, flickering his [Personal Ward] active, turning his whole sunform white as Caizoa’s sword became a metalgrinder and firework, all in one, brightening the sky with a temporary flash of killing power.

Erick would have winced if she had actually hit his body. Instead, he concentrated on the tether that connected them together. A [Counterspell] from an Ophiel did nothing.

Caizoa made to strike again.

Erick kept the tethered part of himself near her, but moved all of the rest of his sunform away, like an amoeba struggling to get away and let the enemy have a piece of them, instead of the whole. In a sudden thought, Erick moved the tethered part of him into the path of the blade. Caizoa’s sword struck the tether, breaking it, and Erick was suddenly freed. Fast as he could, he stepped away.

Caizoa screamed bloody murder as she advanced again, but she was forced to actually cross the distance between them. There was no easy tether for her to follow, this time.

Erick didn’t let her get close. He ran. He conjured Ophiel. Soon enough, he lost Caizoa in the chase.

Soon enough, he was up to ten Ophiel. Time to counterattack.

Nope. Wait. There’s Caizoa again.

Ah. Right. The Black Star allows the user to see where their enemy is all the time. Erick was going to have to deal with her first, wasn’t he?