Ar'Kendrithyst

After the day was done, and too many people had been killed, Koropo broke open five kegs of celebratory brandy for every single soldier and clerk on staff. Erick had a small glass himself, and stood to the side as Koropo gave a great speech. They had killed the 25 most wanted criminals of Treehome and a good lot more besides that, and though the whooping cheers and hurrahs were infectious, Erick could barely believe the extreme violence and power and death that he had bore witness to for the last 8 hours. He, and his Ophiel, had scanned all of Treehome and much of the Forest, and the mountains, to find their targets, and they had been wildly successful. Erick got to see every single takedown, and he even participated in a few, when the target broke encirclement and almost got away. And yet, still, with all their preparation and foresight, soldiers died. There were civilian casualties. Buildings exploded, and people got hurt.

Several of his 170,000 mana Ophiel were even banished by mages of considerable power, or luck, as was the case in two instances when the target had [Banish Familiar]. It was an acceptable loss, for in those few seconds, when those mages were dealing with Ophiel instead of with the soldiers all around them, Special Forces took them down.

Erick knew he had saved more than a few soldiers from death today, and a lot of them looked to Erick with appreciation in their eyes. More than a few of them spoke with him, thanking him afterward, their voices filled with reverence.

Peron came into the room ten minutes after the first round of celebratory drinks had been drunk. The room went quiet as he held up his hand.

“Good work, everyone!” Peron said, “You’re all getting bonuses!”

A round of cheers went up. Peron had no more words for everyone else, though, so people returned to their drinks, and their talking as Peron walked over to Erick.

“Erick.” Peron said.

Some people looked their way.

“Hello, Peron?” Erick asked.

With a polite yet firm stance, Peron said, “Erick. I have heard that your Ophiel was directly engaging with some of the people you all hunted today.”

Koropo stepped in, saying, “Aye. And it was good that he did. Made me change my mind on [Familiar]s. We should consider looking for some Summoners to add to our ranks, if we can find some with quality summons like Ophiel.”

Ophiel trilled on Erick’s shoulder; a quiet sound, mostly.

Without giving Erick a second to think, Peron continued, “I do this as a part of my job, you understand.” He stated, “You are here on guest rites. You are not a member of our community, and though we value your assistance in the spells we have asked you to cast and the actions we have asked you to take, please do not overstep your bounds. We have much more work ahead of us all, and I will not have vigilantism in Treehome. Please hold your Ophiel back from participating in any fights, from here on out. This much vigilantism sets a bad precedent, and people are complaining to me. I would prefer not to receive complaints about you, Erick.”

This was not a fight Erick was willing to fight. So he said, “Of course, Peron.”

Peron nodded, then moved on.

Erick had another drink, and then moved on, too; back to his room at Hotel O’kabil.

- - - -

Erick sat by the dinner table, the full enormity of the day’s events coming down on him all at once, as Jane set out the room service dinner. Kiri just looked to him from across the table, obviously wondering if he was okay. He was not okay. Not really. He didn’t know how to be okay right now. This was different than that time he had hunted for the Hunters that Caradogh set upon Spur. Much different. Back then, he had gone into all of that in some rage-fueled fugue state, where he barely understood that the people he helped Spur to kill were still people. Erick would have liked to have blamed all of that barely-remembered time on [Hunter’s Instincts], but that was a cop out. He had chosen to help hunt and kill those people. Those Hunters.

Just as he had helped to hunt and kill the people he had hunted and killed today. And this time, he didn’t have the excuse of running [Hunter’s Instincts]. This time, and last time, too, all of this death was on his hands.

… But by that same token, with the deaths of the Hunters, serial killers, and terrorists today, Erick had saved an untold number of people in the future. Koropo had said as much, several times, and changed from a stoic man, solidly following the lead laid down for him by his superior, Peron, into a man with a smile on his face at the end of the day. And Koropo wasn’t the only one. At the end, many people in that office walked with a skip in their step and a relaxation in their shoulders that they did not have at the beginning. There was some sadness for the soldiers who had died in the line of duty, but Koropo had never lied about the people that Erick needed to hunt, either. Those killings were justified, in almost every common usage of the word ‘justified’, but—

Jane uncovered a plate of spicy fried chicken, right in front of Erick.

The smell instantly assaulted his nose. He turned away and sneezed, and sneezed—

Jane demanded, “Tell me what is wrong, dad. You’ve barely said a word since you walked in the door.”

Erick sneezed once more.

“Bless you,” Jane said. “Now talk.”

And so, Erick talked. “The Special Forces… They were so prepared. It was practically a storm of activity, with every single Guardhouse of every District called in to execute the orders of the Special Forces… Fast as they could be. We were clearing a mission every five minutes there, in the thick of it all.” Erick sighed, then said, “I helped kill forty four people today, Jane, and every single one of them deserved it.” He said, “I’m coming to terms with that, and with the fact that tomorrow, there will be more.”

Poi, also sitting down at the table, said nothing, but he had been there the whole time. Erick almost wished that the man would have said ‘no’ to some of the deaths. He almost wished that he was being tricked into hunting innocent people. But then that would have been a lie. Everything that Erick saw in those case files, and everything that he saw on the ground, when the teams confronted the people Erick had found, proved that those targets needed to die. One guy was found in the middle of a room full of severed heads, the trophies of his victims, way out in the Forest where he never would have been found otherwise.

Jane said, “If they deserved it, then they deserved it.”

“They did… It’s not that simple, but at the same time, it is that simple, isn’t it?”

Jane said, “Sometimes there is no grey. Sometimes black and white do exist.”

“Yeah…” Erick said, “Eleven of them were serial killers, each more crazy and yet capable of hiding that crazy than the last.

“There were nine alchemically toxic orcols who were a part of this group called Downfall, which consisted of fifteen people, in total. They wanted to bring down the Arbors of Treehome. They almost succeeded in killing an Arbor twice in the past five years. Once was an attack on Ikabobbi and on the Special Forces headquarters last year, and the other was against the base of Steel-Branch. Both Arbors only survived due to massive assistance efforts on the part of every other Arbor. Those Downfall people only hadn’t been found for so long because those toxic orcols were literally immune to most scanning magic.

“And I helped take down their entire organization in a matter of hours.

“Thirteen of my kills were Hunters, which is a distinction from ‘serial killer’ that I don’t quite understand, but… That’s how they do it.

“And then there were six monsters that only looked like people. Acted like people, too.” Erick shivered. “Those were scary.”

No one said anything, but they did start digging into the food that Jane had set out.

After a moment, Erick added, “And twelve good— twelve good men and women died to make that happen, and this is what is labeled as a success.” Erick looked down at the food he had mechanically served himself, somehow, and then decided he wasn’t really hungry. He was thirsty. So he got up and went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

Jane watched her father. “Are you going back tomorrow?”

“… Yes.” Erick downed the first shot of Sunset Red Rum. Jane had found the bottles for sale when she had gone out into the city today. It was a good drink, and it reminded him of simpler times, of discussing magic with Jane while they sat in Windy Manor. Or, rather, those weren’t simple times? Were they? They were just in the past, facing a different set of trials, while Erick was here, in the present, and facing yet more trials. He poured himself another shot, and said, “I’m going back for more hunting tomorrow, because they need my help. They said as much, too, and not just verbally. It was their hopeful eyes and their relaxed shoulders and their… Their everything… They need [Cascade Imaging].” Erick verbalized a thought he had been kicking around for a little while, and said, “I think I have to give this spell to a god of justice, or something. Or at least let them use it, like I let Atunir use [Exalted Rain].” He asked, “Is there a good god of Justice out there? For some reason I don’t think I’ve ever heard of one.”

There was a short silence, as Jane looked toward Poi, Erick glanced over between Kiri and Teressa, and Kiri and Teressa shared similar unsure looks. Poi just frowned a little.

Kiri said, “Not really.”

“Sumtir is close,” Teressa offered.

Poi looked to them both, and said, “No. He’s the god of Righteous War.” He turned to Erick, saying, “There’s no god of Justice. Justice is too subjective. There are minor gods of justice, though. For humans, there’s the Crown of the Host, while the Incani have their Demon King. Both of those stations have a divine spark to them.”

Well, well, well. Wasn’t that a thought? Erick narrowed his eyes, and took another drink. The rum burned a little going down, but it was the good kind of burn that warmed him from the inside, chasing away the cold clawing at his mind.

He said, “I didn’t know that’s how it worked.”

“This is why there is no god of Justice?” Jane asked, “Is it the diametrically opposed views on justice that make it so no god of Justice can be born? Incani versus Human, or Angel versus Demon?”

Poi said, “No one knows, but that’s one of the current guesses. Both angels and demons do exist on the moons of Celes and Hell, after all.”

Kiri said, “There are lots of Gods that should exist and who have existed historically, before the Sundering, but don’t anymore. Back in Arcanaeum, they told us that Veird is just too small of a pond. That the domains of gods used to be hundreds or thousands of worlds, but that’s just not possible here on Veird. There just isn’t enough room for more gods to be born. There should be a god of Knowledge, too, but they don’t exist, either.”

“That’s not a bad thing, though.” Poi said, “There used to be dark gods back before the Sundering, but we don’t have any of those, either.”

“… Well now I’m depressed about a whole different topic.” Erick asked, “What happens with the gods if Yggdrasil actually does manage to open the Script on the other worlds of this solar system?” He let that question hang in the air for three moments, before rapidly declaring, “Whatever! Let’s eat.”

Dinner was delicious, but silence stretched over the room for a little, while everyone ate, and thought. It was rather quiet, as far as dinners usually went.

“Oh.” Erick said, “Wait.” He looked to Teressa, asking, “Weren’t we going to eat at your auntie’s again?”

Teressa shook her head, saying, “That fell through, but don’t worry about it.” She asked, “I heard you managed to clear some Quests today, though?”

Offhandedly, Erick said, “Enough for 13 points.”

Jane almost choked on her chicken strip, but Teressa slapped her on the back and a piece of chicken went flying across the room, barely missing Poi. Poi continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

But it was Kiri who demanded, “What! How?!”

“Criminal Quests,” Teressa said.

“There were Quests attached to a lot of those criminals,” Erick confirmed. “I didn’t get full points for a lot of them, but I did get partial points, which is something. Usually a quarter to a half of a point. That terrorist group, Downfall, was seven of those full points.” He added, “And I saw a lot of how Mage Hunters work. That’s a pretty amazing Class, you know? Niche, for sure, but really good at taking down other people.” He looked to Teressa, asking, “How good are the Mage Hunters in Spur?”

Teressa said, “They’re pretty good. About as good as anywhere else, really. We have more Sin Seekers than Mage Hunters, though. There’s a lot of overlap with those Classes, and Sin Seeker is usually better.”

Jane said, “I never considered law enforcement as a path toward extra points.”

“It’s usually not.” Teressa said, “We discourage that sort of stuff in Spur. But up here, where there’s 8 to 10 million people? They need those incentives to cut down on potential criminal activity.”

Erick briefly wondered who Silverite or Merit would petition to create a Kill Quest, even if they wanted to. Silverite was aligned with Koyabez, for sure, so… Erick said, “I doubt Koyabez would want to sponsor the type of Kill Quests that are necessary in the Guardhouse, anyway.”

Poi said, “Yup.”

Over dinner, Erick figured now was as good a time as any to distribute his new points. So he did so. 5 points went into Willpower. 5 points went into Focus. He’d save the other 14 for when he needed a new Basic Spell. A few of those points were already earmarked for [True Sight], eventually, when his soul wasn’t tattered and he was able to make new magic without fucking it up.

Erick Flatt

Human?, age 48

Level 90, Class: Particle Mage

Exp: 2.32 e20 /7.54 e20

Class: 10/10

Points: 14

HP

2,430/2,430

6,054 per day

MP

9060/9060

6,054 per day

Strength

20

+61

[81]

Vitality

20

+61

[81]

Dexterity

10

+61

[71]

Constitution

20

+61

[81]

Perception

20

+61

[81]

Willpower

90

+61

[151]

Focus

90

+61

[151]

Intelligence

20

+61

[81]

Favored Ability waiting!

Favored Ability waiting!

Favored Ability waiting!

- - - -

“Downfall is over. In the space of a single afternoon, they were raided and ended by Warchief Koropo and his Special Forces.” A light voice said, “We can no longer count on them as customers.”

“The Flower Killer is gone, too,” said a deep voice. “I quite liked that little scamp.”

“That plant was a failure, anyway.” Light said, “Erick Flatt has come, and our little part of the world collapses at his arrival. We must plan.”

“It’s true, then? Erick Flatt has come to Treehome?” Deep asked.

“Yes,” Light said.

“What are we to do?” asked a petite voice.

“Go to ground. Run and hide,” said Light.

“And when that isn’t enough?” Deep asked.

“… We could kill Erick?” Petite ventured.

“… No. We can’t… Can we?” Deep said, “The Clergy itself went against him, and died for it. We would do no better?”

“I can kill him. I’ll have it done in an hour.” Light asked, “If this is our decision?”

“It will be dangerous, but if we don’t kill him…” Deep said, “Then we will end up like the Clergy.”

“We could…” Petite offered, “We could play nice like Treant has done. We could go to Erick before he starts hunting us, and offer to take on his Curse.”

“It is a Blessing, not a Curse.” Light said, “And I will not do that to myself. We must decide if we are to kill him, and we must decide this soon. Otherwise I am going to the Underworld and you will not see me for ten years.”

“Maybe we should just do that now.” Deep said, “I don’t think we should kill him. Melemizargo has plans for Yggdrasil. We do not want Sininindi’s World Tree to be the only one left to our Dark God, for that would complicate everything.”

Petite offered, “What we could do, is not tell everyone else, and then let Erick find them, but not us. We can clear house and leave our underlings out to dry. Then we come back much stronger in ten years.”

“Or, in ten years, Erick’s Imaging might be able to penetrate into the Underworld, and we will never be safe.” Light said, “Which is why we have to kill him now, if we are ever to have a chance.”

Deep was resolute, as he said, “We should take the loss and Erick’s Blessing. It’s better than death.”

“Have you eyes to see? Ears to hear? Treant moans at the Arbors every day, and gets nowhere.” Light said, “I will not have that ‘Blessing’ on me.”

“I see and hear more than you think.” Deep said, “You don’t even know who I am. There is a reason we meet like this.”

Light said nothing to that.

Petite said, “I’m going to the Underworld, for at least until Erick leaves Treehome. I pray you all make similarly smart decisions.”

Light said, “Then I’m going, too. If we meet, I hope we don’t kill each other, Petite.”

Petite chuckled, saying, “You think too highly of yourself, Light. Goodbye~”

Petite’s voice faded from the silence all around.

Light asked, “If you decide to go to Erick and take this Blessing, are you going to mindwipe yourself, first?”

“No. I have to give him something to prove my sincerity. I’ll give up a few dozen people. A few major operations.” Deep said, “He’s an honorable man, so I think he’ll take the win.”

Light sighed. “In any other time, I would be forced to be an honorable man, too, and kill you for the good of the rest of us, but times have changed.”

“Ha!” Deep said, “Times certainly have changed, Omaz.”

“… When did you find out, Edolphis?” Omaz asked.

“… When did you find out about me?” Edolphis asked, his shock plain in his voice.

“Since everything is ending, I might as well tell you. It was eight years ago, when you fucked up that caravan attack and cost us three operatives.”

“That was a bullshit target and you know it!”

“You fucked up. I gave you all that information, and you fucked up.”

“And you fucked up when—” Edolphis said, “I’m not doing this. You are right: everything is ending. Goodbye.”

Edolphis’s deep voice faded from the silence.

“And then there were two.” Omaz asked, “Now that those two have abandoned the tribe, what’s the real plan?”

Silence.

“Hello? I know you’re there. You’re always there.”

Silence.

“… Melemizargo? My Lord?”

Silence.

- - - -

The conference room looked much the same as it had when Erick left the room yesterday. Papers filled with information and ‘photos’ that were more drawing than actual photos, lined the cork boards, while writings and postulations filled accompanying blackboards. But those papers were not the same as the ones that had been there yesterday.

Right now, those papers were all about cultists. Mug shots of Omaz Wyrmrest, Archmage Syllea’s brother, were pinned up alongside sketches of a walled settlement, outside of Treehome. Erick had heard of that ‘settlement’ before. He had even spotted it from afar while he was searching for people yesterday. It reminded him of a prison. Blocky, stone buildings, lined with anti-Shaping runes. A curtain wall several meters tall, and unique in the area, for there were no walls around Treehome. The people inside waited in line for food from dispensaries. They grew nothing for themselves and had no daily jobs. There were only a few hundred people in that small settlement, but there were at least a hundred guards stationed on the surrounding wall, and around the perimeter.

The commune was a place of little cheer where they had kept the people who became shadelings when they consumed a second Stat Fruit, and gained a second one of the New Stats. Erick hadn’t actually been inside the place yet, in any capacity. But that was going to change. Today was the day to investigate the commune for cultists.

… If any of the targets led that way. Erick hoped that nothing pointed toward the commune, but that seemed like a fool’s thought.

Erick walked up to the picture of Omaz and the sketches of the camp, and said, “That place looks rather worse in person.”

Naervion, who had been on many missions yesterday with Erick leading the way, stood beside him, and said, “That’s not my beat so I’ve never been inside. I’m on call for when the targets show outside of there, though.”

“Didn’t a lot of them come to Ar’Kendrithyst and drink at the Well? Get shifted back to being normal orcols?” Erick instantly added, “Or. No. That was only 12 people, wasn’t it.”

“I heard there were plans to do all the rest, later. But then you happened, sir, and killed all the Shades.” Naervion said, “I heard that the Well was gone.”

“Aye, it might be.” Erick asked, “How many people are still there? Over two hundred was the last I heard.”

Koropo spoke from behind Erick, saying, “We’ve still got about three hundred thirty shadelings in there.”

“More than there were, then.” Erick turned to the man, saying, “After I went home, I was thinking about a few of the kills yesterday. A few of them stood out to me more than most. The Flower Killer was the most obvious, for sure, but the people of Downfall were similarly tough. They all had at least Constitution.”

Koropo lost some of his good cheer. He turned stoic, again.

Erick continued, “Spotting Constitution got me talking with a guy down in Candlepoint a few hours ago by the name of Mephistopheles. He knew roughly how many Stat Fruits Candlepoint had given out while Bulgan was in charge. But something doesn’t add up.” He said, “I had access to a few different sources, and from what my guy at Candlepoint tells me, and from what I overhead at the Feast, there were maybe 4,400 Constitution Fruits given out, in total, with something like 21,000 various Stat Fruits of all different types, all combined, distributed to various people. But that number went to people all over the world. Now here’s the question: In your professional opinion, how likely is it that every single major killer from yesterday had access to those New Stats? How many people in Treehome have any of the New Stats. You obviously had enough extra Stat Fruits rolling around Treehome in order to have an entire commune of people who became shadelings.” He added, “Each one of those Shadelings has at least two of the New Stats, which means that’s over 650 of the Stat Fruits accounted for. But how many orcols are in Treehome that have just one of the New Stats? How many people slipped under the Scan, so to speak?”

Erick did not ask his big question, not yet. It was only a thought rolling around in his mind that there might be more Stat Trees out there, and he did not want to voice that concern when he had no numbers to back up his thought.

Koropo listened, then he said, “I can see how you might look at the numbers and think them a little stretchy. Not to be too proud, but we orcols are some of the best adventurers in the world, and we make a point to stay ahead of the curve. All of our high-level adventurers have been to Ar’Kendrithyst and gotten a lot of treasure out of that place, so it doesn’t surprise me that there seems to be a lot of our people with those New Stats. To me, you asking that question is strange, because we’ve always taken what we could from Ar’Kendrithyst.” Koropo added, “Add to that, many of us dislike our Divine overseer, Aloethag.”

Naervion harrumphed, adding, “That’s putting it lightly.”

Koropo glared at Naervion, who had the wherewithal to take a step back and looked chastised. Koropo continued, “Aloethag is one of the main reasons why a lot of orcols end up becoming Cultists of the Dark God.” He said, “It doesn’t surprise me that we seem to have a larger number of people with the New Stats than we should.” He seemed to struggle with something, then just came out and said, “When word got around that becoming a shadeling cut you off from the Red Dream, a lot of people worked hard for those New Stats, specifically for that reason.”

Naervion, and more than a few other orcols in the room, rapidly found important tasks elsewhere, away from the conversation between Erick and Koropo.

“Hmm.” Erick turned back toward the pictures of the commune and Omaz. “Does Syllea know you’re hunting her brother?”

“… In a general sense.” Koropo said, “And that’s a headache and a half.”

So he hadn’t told her that Omaz was on the docket for today. Why not? Was Peron involved with that decision? That seemed likely.

Erick asked, “So where are we starting this Cultist hunt? Are we starting in the commune?”

“We have the major targets, but…” Koropo said, “But they’re not killers, like the ones we took down yesterday. Look. I’m gonna level with you before Peron shows up and I need to shut up to keep my job and my city safe. Today’s gonna be hard for all of us, because we want the targets dead, because they are Cultists. But you won’t want them dead, because they haven’t actually killed anyone.”

Erick was surprised, and said as much, “I didn’t expect such forthrightness.”

“You’ve done this city a major service and I don’t want to alienate you over some religious differences between Peace and Vengeance, since that seems to be your hard line in the dirt.” Koropo said, “Our major problem with most of the Cultists is that they corrupt us from the inside out, and we don’t want them in our city. I spoke of people accepting shadeling status, just so those people could step out from Aloethag’s domain, but it was the Cultists who really churned up the people, getting them to accept the idea of becoming shadelings. A lot of those people in that commune are there because, for them, being a shadeling was better than being an orcol. Even if they have to live in the dirt to do it. No one cared when we went after the terrorists and the killers yesterday, but those people in that commune are a tight-knit community, even if they are just a couple of months old.”

Erick thought for a moment, then asked, “So if all they’re doing is talking and convincing people to switch gods, then why not just leave them alone out there?”

“That’s what most of them do. And a lot of the people who do the talking are just the shadelings, who we label as Cultists because... If it sounds like a wyrm, walks like a wyrm, then it might as well be a wyrm.” Koropo said, “We do still have a list of killers that need taking down. People with clear intentions of generalized harm. The problem is that they’re going to band together with people who are nominally Cultists, so I wanted to be upfront about that. The line is about to get blurry, and when we go after some of these guys, we’re going to stir up the whole commune.”

Erick asked, “This might sound like a stupid question. But have you tried posting Wanted posters into the commune? Talking to people? Telling them that the killers there will not be tolerated?”

“Yes. We’ve done—” Koropo turned toward the entrance to the room.

Peron had walked in, wearing his usual green robes. He spotted Erick, and began walking over. Smiling amiably, and speaking to the whole room, he said, “That was some good work you all did yesterday. You’ve all certainly earned your pay, and your holiday bonuses, which I’m looking to expand in a special chieftain action in the coming week.”

Several people around the room brightened at that. Some, who Erick noticed as those who had been on the front lines, were rather stoic and silent at Peron’s proclamation. They recognized the duty that they had to make their home safe, but they also felt the sting of missing faces that had been in that room yesterday.

Gods above, Erick did not understand how anyone could willingly get into this line of work. To face this sort of death every day? But then again, he did understand them, at least a little. They were people who saw what had to be done to keep their world safe, and then they went out and did it. Jane was the same way. Hell, it seemed that more and more, Erick was getting that way, too.

Peron said, “Good work, everyone.” He reached Erick, and said, “And thank you, Archmage Flatt.”

Erick nodded, saying, “I’m glad we were able to work together. I hope that today goes…” He just couldn’t be that polite and political. He couldn’t not mention all the people who had died to make yesterday a success. Good men and women, working to make Treehome safer than it had been, were now dead and gone. Their funerals were even put on hold, because there was work to be done. So, Erick said, “I hope everyone goes into today as safe as they can. It’s dangerous out there.”

Peron said, “I’d say that it’s more dangerous out there than you know, if you were anyone else besides who you are.” He stood tall, and gazed upon the papers on the boards, stating, “I don’t like how we left the cultists for later. But it was either going after them first, or going after the other half of the problem. We made our decisions, and now we will live with the consequences.” He looked down to Erick. “Are there going to be problems doing what needs to be done to rid ourselves of the Cult?”

“Probably!” Erick said, with perhaps too much vitriol in his voice. And then he toned it down, and seriously asked, “Have you tried telling them to stop? To leave that commune, and to leave Treehome, and the Forest? There’s lots of places in this world for them to be besides in a place they are not wanted. I’ll help you find and kill the killers among them, for sure. But.” Erick said, “I see you, Peron. I see your desire to get rid of the Cult, entirely, and in the worst way possible. I foresee you stepping over the line in the dirt that I have already established, and then saying ‘oops, oh well’, afterward.”

Koropo sighed, almost imperceptibly.

Peron looked down his nose at Erick, and said, “I won’t step over any lines, Erick. But it is my belief that you will soon see that your lines are placed on shaky ground. Make no mistake: Yesterday was a choice to go after a lot of the disjointed Evil in this land. It was a choice that cost us the lives of good soldiers, good men and women. But the Evil we combat today will be as poking the dragon. The dragon will wake. The backlash will test our resolve, both of Treehome, and yourself. You would do well to come down on the right side of the line you have drawn, before you drop into a chasm of your own making, and before you get even more people killed.”

Erick had a near-difficult time restraining his anger, but he held himself back. He did not rise to the bait in Peron’s words. He did not fight against the implication that Erick had gotten those soldiers killed yesterday. But maybe he should have. Some of the people in the room were looking Erick’s way, and not all of those looks were ambivalent.

Erick said, “This isn’t my home, and this isn’t my fight, but I have been helping you in your home to fight your fight because it is the right thing to do. I can help more, if you wish. Closer Ophiels? More backup? How much do you want me involved in your affairs? Yesterday, after it was all over, you told me to only act within the parameters you set going forward, to only be your scanner, because ‘people were complaining to you about me’. Now you want me to look the other way while you use my power to harm people who are potentially innocent—”

“They’re Cultists of Melemizargo. The same Dark Dragon who has almost destroyed this world time and time again. They undermine and they poison others to their dogma.” Peron said, “People like that have no place in any good society. People like that are not ‘innocent’, by any stretch of the word. Besides! Look around you. The people in this room took down dozens of murderers yesterday, and they were well within acceptable levels of collateral damage. You’re telling me you think these fine people will purposefully harm innocents? Bah! I tell you that they will do exactly what is needed, and you need to do the same.” Peron said, “You need to back these fine soldiers with all of your power when that entire commune comes together to protect the evil that they harbor within, or else you need to leave, and we need to call this whole thing off.”

“… Less talk of politics.” Erick said, “More talk of actual responses that you expect to happen from this ‘deadly’ commune, and how we are going to negate those responses.” He turned to Koropo, saying, “I’m going to need some good mana potions up in here to chain-[Dispel] whatever large-scale counterattacks might happen. If they happen.”

Koropo nodded, then silently turned to the side and gestured at a clerk. The clerk ran off.

Peron barely glanced at the rushing clerk, before focusing on Erick. He said, “I would love to include you in those plans, but I cannot, for these ‘politics’ as you so dismissively call them, include not divulging operational protocol to unknown actors.” He added, “But if you see the sky filling with danger, then do your best to get rid of it.”

“Of course.” Erick said, “I can do that.”

Peron stared at Erick for a moment, then turned toward Koropo. “The first target is Omaz. Syllea does not know. I want that boy’s head on a pike before she catches wind. I want every person found with him in heavy custody. Do what needs to be done, Warchief. You have your orders.”

Four seconds passed while Erick debated with himself if he should warn Syllea.

He needn’t have bothered. Someone else already had.

“Peron!” Syllea had blipped into the air outside the hallway, yelling as she burst into the room, “That’s my brother!”

Bless whoever had told her and taken that guilt off of Erick’s shoulders!

Peron casually turned toward the angry archmage, saying, “Omaz is guilty of high crimes. I would do the sa—”

“Shut your god’s damned mouth.” Syllea turned toward Erick, saying, “Find him and tell me where he is. I’m taking care of him myself.”

“Okay. But. Hear me out:” Erick said, “Maybe we could all work together today? To take down the parts of the Cult that need removal, and to pardon those who have done nothing wrong?”

Syllea glared hard at Erick. “You shouldn’t be casting spells in your condition, let alone telling me how to deal with my traitor of a brother.” She rounded on Peron, saying, “And I have to find out you’re going after him from someone else besides you, grandpa?! What the fuck?!”

Peron said, “You are too close to this, Syllea. You need to back off and let us elders handle this, now. You are not in charge here, so listen to those who are, or you will find yourself in chains, too.”

“Ignore him.” Syllea turned to Erick. “Find me my brother.”

Peron started, “Syllea—”

“Fucking shut up!” Syllea yelled at his face.

Peron sighed, then said, “Do as she says.” He said to Syllea, “Whatever that traitor does now is on your head.”

Syllea said, “And if I hadn’t gotten here in time and you did to Omaz what you did to all those people yesterday, then I would have had your head, old man.” She said, “I wouldn’t give a shit about the consequences, either.”

Peron went still, as he narrowed his eyes at Syllea. “That was an ill-advised threat.” He turned to Koropo, and said, “You have your missions, Warchief. Leave Omaz to Archmage Syllea. She will have no backup.”

“… Sir?” Koropo asked.

“You heard me,” Peron said. “Do your job, or I will remove you and instate someone who will.”

Koropo put a fist on his chest, followed soon by the same gesture from everyone else in the room, except for Erick, Syllea, and Poi. Erick briefly registered that another person walked into the room. Bayth, Syllea’s bodyguard and oldest friend. The massively muscular woman nodded toward Poi, who simply nodded back, then she took a stand beside the door.

Syllea turned to Erick.

Erick spoke before she could, saying, “My Ophiels are already out there, Imaging the whole of the Forest and Treehome. I remember what your brother looks like, but I won’t have the best Imaging of possible locations unless I have some of Omaz’s blood or body parts.”

Syllea instantly turned to Koropo, demanding, “What parts do you have of my brother?”

Koropo gestured to a severed and cauterized lump of meat sitting on a table to the side of the room, saying, “That’s from one of the bodies we think he has [Polymorph]ed into.” He gestured to two other lumps of flesh, and one severed hand, saying, “The hand was his, though. Our blood mages weren’t able to get far with it…” His voice trailed off.

Because Syllea moved toward the hand, her hard eyes turning soft, as she almost touched the dead flesh with her own open hand. And then her eyes turned hard again, and her open hand became a fist. Anger filled her visage, as she muttered, “You fucking idiot. Why the fuck did you join the Cult.”

- - - -

In the deep Forest, to the far north, where every tree was larger than an Arbor and spirit deer the size of mansions walked across the land, bringing growth and death in equal measure, an Ophiel hovered high above it all. A ball of cascading white light hovered even higher than that. This map was one of several currently Imaging different parts of the Forest. Maybe this one would get lucky?

A map formed out of misty white light, revealing the land for a thousand kilometers in every direction.

And barely, ever so slightly, a blue mark appeared on that white map.

This map and its blue mark was not the only blue mark that Erick had uncovered in the last ten minutes. This map was just the seventh map to be manually checked.

Syllea went in.

Erick moved Ophiel to follow, as he had done for the last six positive results.

And then Ophiel popped.

Erick instantly moved another Ophiel toward that location. The second one reached the treeline and managed to survive what had killed the first, for Ophiel had turned on [Pure Reflection Ward]. A comet struck Ophiel, but bounced away, impacting a branch and crushing it with Void and Light. It wasn’t an attack directed at Ophiel, in particular, though. The entire Forest was filled with comets, and more were filling the darkness under the canopy as each second passed. Branches broke as balls of starlight swarmed. Fire spread as light burned bright enough to incinerate the drier parts of the Forest.

Gloom turned flickering, then yellow and red, as trees burned all around. Animals whooped and screamed as they fled. Something roared far away, or possibly really close.

Syllea, hovering below the canopy, flying in a sky made of straight pillars of burning tree trunks, slapped away a comet aimed at her, yelling, “How many!” She flew at her brother, still a hundred meters away, demanding, “How many!”

Omaz flew backward, keeping just ahead of Syllea’s advance, as comets swirled around his body. He laughed, and said, “I thought it was someone else! But it’s just you! Go home, sister!” The comets in the area seemed to calm, but they did not disappear. They were simply waiting to strike.

Erick noted several parts of this area of the Forest rather fast. The first was that several of the nearby trees were warped near the upper part of their straight trunks, forming something like houses out of holes in the wood. The second, was that there were a lot of other people in the area, boiling out of the houses shaped out of the tree trunks, but they were all running, flying, or blipping away. Several of the people here had their faces on the boards back in the room Erick was in, at that very moment. The final thing Erick noticed was that none of them seemed to care about getting involved in the fight between Syllea and Omaz.

… Which seemed like a feint. Erick had started running [Hunter’s Instincts], and everything about this scenario screamed that something bad was about to happen. He rapidly got more Ophiel into position to help Syllea if needed, while he simultaneously told everyone around him, back in the conference room by Wyrmrest, what was happening. The people around Erick didn’t need to be told, for they had already been moving, too, but Erick still felt better warning everyone that shit was going down.

“How many!” Syllea roared at her brother, “How many people have you killed over the years?! How much of what I told you ended up killing someone I knew?!”

Omaz laughed again, saying, “Hundreds! At least! They were coming after my people, so of course I killed them first!”

“Your people?!” Syllea swiped a hand through the air, and every spell around Omaz burst into fractured mana. Omaz briefly lost his smile as he began to fall, but he stabilized almost as fast, though he was a lot less bright according to Ophiel’s [Mana Sight]. Syllea advanced on him, pointing a finger back toward the treetop village they had quickly passed, roaring, “You dare to call Cultists your people! HOW? WHY?! What did I do wrong?!”

“Everything!” Omaz laughed, saying, “You did everything wrong! And if you don’t let me go, I’ll be forced to put you in the ground with all the rest, dear sister! The only reason I haven’t is because your help was what got me where I am today! If it wasn’t for you, the Cult in Treehome wouldn’t be nearly as powerful as it is today!”

Erick watched as Syllea turned silent, calculating, and a little bit red. It started with her eyes, once so clear, becoming pink, then crimson. Omaz saw it happen, too. His own eyes went wider, as a manic sort of glee overtook him. All at once, every single hovering comet began to shift, they swarmed, heading straight for Syllea. The archmage was falling to her Rage, and her brother was happy to see it happen.

Erick considered his options. And then he saw that Syllea was not doing anything to actively defend herself from those comets. She likely had some sort of [Reflection Ward] active, for she had backhanded that one comet away from herself. But Erick didn’t want to risk her spell not working against all the thousands of the comets currently aimed her way. That fact made his decision for him.

He had one of his few remaining high-mana Ophiels cast a 36,000 point [Grand Dispel] at the nearest comet; a little over the raw mana cost of Omaz’s [Starlight Fall], according to the blue box Erick had seen before. The dark magic struck true, setting off an instant chain reaction through the entirety of Omaz’s [Comet Swarm], propagating through the offensive light, popping comets like they were soap bubbles, until the [Grand Dispel] circled all the way through the trees to impact Omaz and rip away his defenses, again. Syllea didn’t seem to notice.

Her body was wreathed in Light and Void. She was half a moment from reaching Omaz, and from plunging starlight swords into his chest.

Omaz faltered through the sky, looking dejected, as he muttered, “Bah.”

And then he blipped away. Starlight swords flashed through empty space. Syllea’s eyes sparked red—

She whipped around to stare at Ophiel, red lightning trickling across her body. Erick almost panicked. Teressa had almost killed Poi back when she Raged. How bad would Syllea’s Rage be? At least she couldn’t use Spatial Magic, right?

Ah. This was why Omaz had taunted her.

Syllea’s head jerked to the side, as intent flowed from her body and into the air. The air around her turned dense, then dissipated, almost as fast as Syllea had exerted her control. She flinched. Her eyes turned redder. She wasn’t trying to attack Ophiel… What was she do—

She turned to wind, briefly, as she stepped through the sky, to reappear ten meters in front of where she had been.

Ah. Shit. She was windstepping.

- - - -

Someone touched his shoulder.

Erick came back to himself, to see Poi standing beside him, with his hand on his shoulder. Bayth stood on Erick’s other side. The room was a flurry of activity, as it usually was, but there was something more frantic about the current rushing about. Someone was yelling about something happening to the southeast, while another person spoke of activity in the north. Erick focused on Poi, though.

Poi said, “There is a counterattack. You’ve been asked to assist. Please help with [Grand Dispel]s.” He handed Erick a mana potion, adding, “And you need to get checked for intestinal rads after today.”

Bayth gazed down at Erick, pleading with her eyes for good news, but she asked for nothing, and Erick couldn’t tell her what was going on out there right now. So he mentally left that task to Poi, who instantly grimaced. Erick went to work.

Ophiels took to the skies over Treehome, right as the starfalls began.