Ar'Kendrithyst

The panic after Goldie’s departure had caused more damage to yurts and people than anything else, and so, once the loudness and disorganization died down and the threat was gone, Niyazo, Koori, and the cowherds and warriors were all gathered and informed of what had happened.

Erick watched it all from the seat of his yurt, almost a kilometer outside of the re-gathered Clan Pale Cow. Erick hadn’t moved his yurt away from the others; everyone else had moved away from him. But they hadn’t told him to leave; not yet, anyway.

From what Erick could see, they were still deciding if they wanted to ask him to leave, and Niyazo was pushing back hard against those scared voices who wanted the archmage gone. Surprisingly, when Koori gave an unbiased account of what had happened, she didn’t throw Erick under the yurt. The woman was actually standing up for Erick’s words and actions in the face of an unexpected Shade.

And that was nice.

Teressa sat on the edge of Erick’s yurt, her booted feet resting upon the plain as she looked toward Clan Pale Cow. In a relaxed tone, she said, “I had forgotten about how it felt to be around a Shade.”

Jane asked, “When was the last time you were around one? That close, I mean.”

“Three years ago, back when I was still on active duty.” Teressa said, “Cludolphis, the Shade of Mending. We were on a rescue mission to find a missing Healer after some adventurers had killed some monsters and wrecked some spires. We took too long. Cludolphis found us when she came to repair a spire. She required us to take tea with her, and then she killed one of the new recruits when they failed to sip tea properly.” She added, “The guy didn’t expect to get in that much trouble for he had heard that the Shades were lenient against new people. Well… Shows how much he knew.”

Nirzir held herself against the doorframe to the yurt like she was holding it for support. She hadn’t said a word since Goldie arrived and then left. Wide-eyed and all ears, she listened.

Poi said, “I met Crimsonair four years ago. He mutilated a teammate into a minor abomination for the transgression of speaking too loud.” Poi continued, “I went to the city side of the Army after that.”

Jane stared at nothing. “I expected more visits than that.”

Teressa smirked, saying, “You got a lot more face time with them than the normal person, Jane.”

Jane nodded.

Erick explained, “Both of those Shades are dead now. Cludolphis was on Tania’s side during the final battle. Crimsonair was on Fallopolis’s side. I saw them fighting. The Shade of Mending was floating inside of a crystalline Solid Ward to protect themselves, the Shade of Blood was a giant monster of red fluid. I think Crimsonair killed Cludolphis, and then he was killed in turn by someone else on Tania’s side. But it was all rather chaotic. I have no idea what actually happened there. At the end, I was just… Trying to survive, and ensure the good outcome.”

Nirzir broke her silence, asking, “The good outcome was millions of highlanders dead in a war sparked by the Shades?”

Nirzir’s tone was not accusative. She was just perplexed. Confused. She needed to know. Erick needed to know what the heck she was saying, though, because the cause and effect in what Nirzir was saying was rather spread out. But he understood her logical trail, soon enough.

And so Erick answered, “I think it was more that the Shades are trying to repent, and they knew of what was happening over here, and so, in Goldie’s mind, Songli ascending to Empire was the good outcome.” He explained, “As of years ago, Terror Peaks was already headed to war; it only erupted now because of the chelation treatments pioneered by Songli, and because everyone is looking to fill the power vacuum left by Last Shadow’s Feast. Terror Peaks tried to strike hard, and everyone underestimated.” He looked to the young girl, and said, “Keep in mind that the Shades might have been culled, and their priesthood dissolved by divine mandate from Melemizargo himself, but the base desire of the Darkness is to drive people to strength. That will never change. Do you understand?”

Nirzir nodded, a little.

Erick nodded in return, saying, “And so, to drive Songli to strength, Goldie and Queen set up some pillars, ready for your nation to knock them down and to build upon the bounty that followed. But they expected more out of Songli than Songli brought, and at the same time, they didn’t expect Terror Peaks to be as strong as they were…” Erick paused. He looked to Poi. “That part about the extra Extreme Light materials and the accusation against the Headmaster regarding [Duplicate]. What is your opinion?— Your opinion on the whole thing, actually.”

“I can’t read Shades, but professionally…” Poi stared off into the middle distance, thinking. He came back, saying, “The Shade’s view is twisted and you should never trust her, but I don’t think she was lying about her intentions, and how she thought the war would go. Her accusation against the Headmaster is unfounded, though.”

Erick let that lay for a moment.

No one spoke for a while.

Erick interrupted the silence, asking everyone, “What do you think is going to happen with Pale Cow?”

Poi said, “I have no idea. Clan Pale Cow seems to be getting hold of themselves and recognizing that their reaction was terrible.”

“These people are not prepared for what is going to happen around them if we stay.” Teressa said, “But they’re getting better.”

Jane remained silent.

Nirzir said nothing.

Erick watched Clan Pale Cow through Ophiel, while listening to the gathering with his own ears. The sound carried well on the plains.

The clan was gathered for a speech from Niyazo. The warlord spoke a patriotic message about knowing the monsters in their midst, and how Erick had already exposed those monsters once, and how he would do so again. There was light chastisement about how everyone freaked out, but then Niyazo sandwiched those words with compliments about how, during the actual Shade visitation, everyone was outwardly calm and everyone did everything as they should have done.

Teressa scoffed at that. “Only the people nearest to us actually understood what was happening, and that was only halfway through the visit. Everyone else remained perplexed the whole time. Some thought the Shade was an angel.”

“Yeah…” Erick said, “I’m not sure why the Shade of Assassination uses the biggest sword she can find. I would expect smaller weapons. Less angelic looks, too.”

Teressa said, “Bisecting is harder to heal from than brain stabs, or whatever.”

“The angel-angle has always been an oddity.” Poi said, “We don’t know why, either. It might be an affectation, or a real deal. Goldie has always been mostly-unknown to us.”

Erick said, “I got the distinct impression that she was going to get a dragon fight going even with my refusal. Did it look like that to you?”

“Yes,” Poi said.

“Maybe,” Jane said.

“I don’t know,” Teressa said.

Nirzir breathed out, “Yes.”

Erick nodded, then he said, “Well. Then. I feel I need to do something against that. A kinder way, perhaps.” He raised his hand and cast a wardlight upon the roof of his yurt, shaping light into a globe of Veird that rotated one way, while text slowly rotated the other way, like the ticker on a stock market. “Maybe talking will prevent an all out war.”

Erick’s main message read: ‘Let’s Talk About Solutions.’ And then in smaller text, below the main message, it read ‘Appointments available and preferred. Paperwork required – No [Telepathy]. Confidentiality assured unless waived. I can meet you through my [Familiar]. Violence is met with violence, peace is met with peace. Harsh words are fine!’

Jane glanced upward, then she frowned a little. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Oh yes. It absolutely is.” Erick said, “But the point is to talk to dragons, so I might as well try to discuss problems with everyone who has problems. It’s what I used to do, but this is certainly a larger scale.” He added, “Maybe it’s a bad idea, but there’s no harm in trying something new.”

Teressa lifted her head toward Clan Pale Cow, saying, “They noticed the sign.”

“It is meant to be noticeable.” Erick paused. He asked, “I could make it less noticeable?”

“It’s not like you made it as massive and as glowing as you could have.” Jane said, “It’s still a big damned globe of light and a very serious invitation to danger.”

“There’s always danger, Jane.” Erick said, “And besides, a lot of archmages have systems like this in place so that they can meet with clients and otherwise.”

“I’m not complaining, dad.” Jane said, “The Headmaster has a whole department dedicated to organizing how people approach him for help, but isn’t this a bit soon for you? I mean—”

Poi grunted out, “Er. Sir.”

Erick looked to the man—

Poi had about a hundred tendrils of thought invading his mind.

“Ah. Shit.” Erick said, “I explicitly wrote up there—!”

Poi exclaimed, “It’s fine. I can—” All at once, most of the tendrils of thought evaporated, leaving him with five. He breathed, then said, “I fixed it on my end. Uh. I told them that you would need a physical application for an appointment, dropped in a box.” Poi looked around. “A box made of the yurt? Is that okay—” He twitched as another hundred tendrils tried to touch him, and then were rebuffed. “Er.” Poi looked to Erick. “That will have to be okay. I instituted a feedback loop for all inquiries.”

Erick said, “I did not mean to put this on you, Poi; you are obviously not expected to fulfill any of this. And yes: I’ll put a box up over here.” With a wave of his hand, just so that people would know that he was doing something, Erick Shaped the front-right corner of the yurt, drawing the wood from the surroundings up into a large, double mailbox. With another cast, he added a spinning globe of white light atop the box, along with more glowing letters. “There. ‘Paperwork goes in the box. NO [Telepathy]’. That should be good.”

“Much better.” Poi relaxed. “They were all tiny inquiries, but they’re usually not all piled up like that. I think most of them wanted… I’m not sure.” He looked to the box, and said, “You need paperwork, now.”

“Yes, I do.” Erick got up from his chair, saying, “I did not expect something to happen so quickly.”

Nirzir whispered, “People always watch from the sky.”

Not a single person glanced upward, for they did not need to physically look up to see what might be up there. Everyone except for Nirzir was already behaving as though they were under scrutiny. And then Nirzir seemed to realize her words, and her stance of holding onto the doorframe, and how weak it made her appear. So she let go of the door frame, straightened up, and stood strong, banishing her fear.

Jane glanced to the young girl, and held back a gentle smile.

Erick, meanwhile, nodded to Nirzir, and said, “I’m always popping [Scry] eyes when I’m out and about like this. Or, rather, Ophiel pops those eyes. I can’t do a thing about the far-away ones, though—” He had a thought. He said, “I once saw the Headmaster clap a [Scry] eye and I think it hurt the person on the other side. Do you know how to do that?”

Nirzir said, “I would love to know how to do this magic. If you find out, will you please tell me?”

Erick smiled. “Of course.”

He guessed it was [Scry], but inverted with Destruction, or something. He didn’t actually know, though.

Nirzir bowed a little, then straightened.

Erick looked to the ground, saying, “And here’s the paper.”

Erick had Ophiel running a job in the background, but now that job was complete. Exactly where Erick was already looking, a stack of white paper, bound in brown paper and twine, appeared in front of him, plopping onto the eternal stonewood. Nirzir only jumped a little bit; everyone else had been prepared. One second later, a pot of ink [Teleport Object]’d right beside the papers, while off to the side, a block of scrap metal plonked down onto the cart. They were the three objects necessary to make paperwork; Ophiel had done well. Erick patted the little guy on his shoulder and Ophiel twittered in response.

With a controlled sunform and precise [Metalshape]ing, Erick constructed a stamp that would fit the paperwork. When he was done, the resultant metal looked a bit like a branding iron, but much, much larger; it was sized to fit the paper. Erick smiled as he applied ink to the iron, and stamped out his first page. And then he frowned. The words were splotchy and illegible. A minor tweak to the metal fixed that. The next page turned out much better.

There wasn’t much to the text; just the normal stuff. Name, topic of discussion, desired outcome, desired time of meeting (along with second and third desired time), some caveats to the whole thing that all favored Erick (which amounted to him saying that he might not even meet the petitioner if he didn’t feel like it), and a few other things.

One of those ‘few other things’ was a box for a thumbprint of the petitioner, done in their own blood, inside the provided space. Asking for the blood of a person was a nefarious enough demand to weed out most casual inquiries, but more than that, it was a good way for Erick to locate the petitioner. This reasoning was even stated right beside that box, too.

Erick printed out a good fifty pages, drying them with heat and light as he went, and then he set those pages into a holder beside the appointment box. A final application of Shaping upon the paired boxes informed anyone who saw the two boxes to ‘Take One’ and ‘Leave One’, and ‘Thank you’.

By the time he was done with that minor job, Niyazo and Koori were walking his way. After a minute they reached his yurt and hopped aboard. Both looked serious. Both were putting on a show for everyone else watching from the rest of the clan, a full kilometer away.

“Welcome to my yurt.” Erick asked, “Are you revoking clanfriend status?”

Niyazo blanked for a good half second, as though he could not believe what he was hearing, then he recovered. He said, “Not unless you wish to leave. The disorder after the woman’s departure was something I did not think we needed to work on, for apparently the stories of danger told around the cauldrons are not good enough preparation for when the shadows truly appear.”

Koori said, “We know who you are. We know what you have done. Some people forgot that. I, even, forgot that. With great discipline, Clan Pale Cow can weather this storm. We are prepared.” She added, “I formally apologize for my rudeness today, and yesterday, Erick.”

That they were so clearly forgiving him for what he had brought to their doorstep… It was a surprise. But it shouldn’t have been. The people of Veird had been dealing with Shades since the Sundering. Those monsters or their envoys could appear wherever they wished to appear, and it was up to everyone else to push them back. When it came to the Shades, everyone else was on the same side, and animosities were discarded.

Erick said, “Then I and my people will continue along this path. Do you wish for us to maintain a distance from your clan?”

“Please join us for meals and community,” Niyazo said, “But maintaining a kilometer distance at all other times might be… reasonable. If you do not mind.”

“Acceptable,” Erick said. “Agreed.”

Koori spoke, “As far as our conversation: I am aware that you might not want to continue it, but I would like to.” She glanced upward at the sign Erick had made, then back to Erick. “Shall I make an appointment?”

Erick smiled softly as he grabbed a sheet of ‘printed’ paper. He handed it to Koori, saying, “I will make some time for you, but I also expect to have a lot of talks with other people, too.”

Koori took the sheet of paper like it was a dangerous object, then she nodded to Erick. She turned and hopped off the yurt, and began walking away.

Niyazo remained for another few moments, to say, “The caravan is continuing. Thank you for staying, Erick.”

“Of course, Niyazo.”

And then the warlord followed his wife back to their clan.

Things proceeded rather normally, from there. Not twenty minutes later, Erick was back in his chair, feeling the wind upon his face, as the cart trundled along to the north. To the left, Clan Pale Cow’s yurts trundled along just as they had been before, except now the nearest one was a kilometer away.

Jane sat down beside him, saying, “So what happened to being incognito?”

“I can still do that, just not right now.” Erick added, “Later, for sure.”

She glanced toward the mailbox. “Ophiel likes his new perch.”

Erick had constructed a perch upon the mailbox, above the glowing globe for Ophiel to stand upon. The little guy took well to his new spot, singing in small musical sounds while the wind rustled across his stretched out wings.

Erick smiled a little. “He does.”

“Anyone pick up a form yet? Invisibly, perhaps?”

“Not that I’ve seen. I’ve counted the papers a few times, too, and they’re all still there. People were willing to send messages, though, so maybe the watchers far above are just waiting till I’m not looking? I’m not sure.”

Near silence returned, but Ophiel was still chirping away in a jazz-like rendition of some music he had overheard elsewhere.

Jane asked, “Do you want to talk about what Goldie said? About what the dragons are after?”

He did. And yet, at the same time, he did not. For his feelings on what Goldie had said were complicated. He was still figuring out most of those feelings, too.

And so, Erick said, “Not yet.”

Jane nodded.

The caravan rode on.

- - - -

Sitting in his chair, feeling the wind upon his face, Erick thought of dragons and Wizards and Idyrvamikor’s curse, and what made one Wizard more ‘powerful’ than another… And Erick came to a conclusion that he already had, long ago: He did not know too much about Wizards, at all. Oh, sure, there were the easy deductions that he could make with existing knowledge, but joining together everything that he had learned from Goldie wasn’t going to get him very much further than he already was.

He was still going to do it, though.

Several days ago, Erick met with the Dragon Stalkers and they gave him specific examples of small ‘Illusion-based’ Wizardry.

Fake Kill Notifications. Casting spells without the need for mana. Sin Seeker Avoidance. Blue boxes for spells one does not have. Status Fakery.

And then there were the larger Wizardries which the Mirage Dragon has never displayed, which would mark that dragon as a true Wizard:

[Strike]ing as though a person had no Health. Taking a spell out of a person for one’s own use. Emptying a person of their mana. Casting spells faster than the Script Second.

If there was no trickery involved, and if those actions were exactly as they appeared to be —direct effects; not heavily nuanced magic that only appeared to be Wizardry— then they were the actions of a Wizard.

In the broadest possible sense of ‘what is a Wizard’, Wizards could cast spells outside of the Script, without care for the Bans and the structure that the Script imposed upon everyone. But that was a superficial overview of Wizardry.

Shades also cast spells outside of the Script, using the Old Cosmology methods of magic that were still taught inside Brightwater, inside Ar’Kendrithyst. Erick wasn’t too sure what that meant, exactly, but he was pretty sure that they shaped their souls and then cast spells that way; whatever that meant.

Shades were a special kind of monster, though. All other monsters cast innate magics that the Script quantified after the monster made their magics. Erick knew what that meant, though, when it came to the sapient monsters, or rather specifically shadelings. Shadelings were automatically matriculated into a specific, monster Script, every single time they came out of their fugue state, or were reborn into another incarnation. Shadelings, like other monsters, only had access to a curated Script.

That was getting off on a tangent, though.

Shades pretended at the power of Wizards, but they were not Wizards.

They were still subject to the Foundational Bans of the Script. They could not propagate spellwork to change the world, for the Propagation Ban prevented that. They could not open a dimensional portal back to the Old Cosmology, for that’s the Dimensional Ban. They could not do things to mana, itself, for that would be against the Infinitesimal Ban.

But a Wizard…

Erick was almost 100% sure that a true Wizard could break any of the Bans. Of all the things Erick knew of Wizards, which was not a lot, he was pretty sure about that fact.

(Another thing was that Wizards made a lot of mana, but understanding that was beyond Erick at this current time, so he let that lie.)

According to the Shades (And Quilatalap), Wizards fell into three categories: Creation, Destruction, and Paradox. Once a Wizard picked one of those directions, they were stuck with their choice. That was what everyone said, but was that true?

Creation and Destruction were very much opposites, if Erick was understanding that correctly. Creation Wizardry wasn’t about shifting one thing into something else and calling that ‘Creation’, after all. It was about actual creation. The manifestation of something from nothing.

Destruction was the opposite; the shifting of something into nothing.

Unless all of that was wrong? Did every lay person get it wrong? Erick had certainly never talked to a Wizard before… Except for Melemizargo?

Melemizargo didn’t count.

Perhaps the three choices were not a trinity, but a line? A line with Creation on one end and Destruction on the other, and everything in between was Paradox? No. Wait. That didn’t fit with time travel, which was a known Paradox Wizard ability.

The Creation/Destruction/Paradox was probably a true trinity.

Bah! Erick could just ask people for these answers. He could talk to the shadows under the grass or under his yurt, right now, and see what Melemizargo had to say about all of this. That seemed like asking for a bad time, though.

Anyway.

Wizards. And Dragons.

Whatever dragons wanted with Wizards probably had to do with using Paradox Wizardry against the Infinitesimal Ban, to change something about the dragon in question, to make them immune to the Dragon Blood Curse.

Was that correct? It seemed… yes?

Yes.

That had to be it.

The dragons certainly didn’t want their existence ‘created’ into a cure? That didn’t make sense.

They probably didn’t want their Curse removed, either, since the Curse was actually upon Dragon Essence itself.

Yes. A dragon likely wanted a Wizard to Paradox their Dragon Essence into something other than what it was, but which allowed them to retain their ‘dragony’ powers. That seemed like ‘Paradox’ all the way.

But…

The Dragon Stalkers were convinced that dragons were inherently Wizardly, but in small ways, and with Goldie’s suggestions about how Wizards could be classified by degrees of power, then, it was by these facts that Erick knew that the small Wizardries of dragons were not enough to break them of their curse. Or perhaps they could break each other of their curses, if one wanted to sacrifice themselves in order to do so? Most dragons probably weren’t about that.

So where did that put Erick, as a nascent Wizard?

Hunted by dragons, for sure.

And Tenebrae, too, now that he thought about it. That old archmage had asked Erick if he knew of any Wizards, because if he did, then they could go retrieve that Wizard, and deliver that Wizard to the dragons to learn the secrets of [Gate]. Which, according to Tenebrae, would not result in the death of that Wizard, but which, according to Goldie, would result in the death of that Wizard.

… Tenebrae didn’t seem like the kinda guy to sacrifice someone to gain power. Sure, he would let someone kill themselves, and he would certainly kill someone who was threatening him, but sacrifice? Erick did not think Tenebrae was like that.

Well. Whatever.

There were many reasons Erick had never told anyone that the gods had called him a Wizard. That there was a brand new, confirmed threat against him, because he was a Wizard, was not unexpected.

A lot of gods knew he was a Wizard, though. And so did the Shades.

Kirginatharp probably knew, right? Or maybe not.

Maybe the gods would keep something like that to themselves… unless they wanted Erick dead. Which…

Well.

Sininindi wanted him dead for messing with her storms, right? All she had to do was release one specific fact into the world and then Erick would be hunted by everyone. That Erick wasn’t being hunted right now either meant that she was waiting for the right time, or that she did not want him dead.

After a while of thinking and guessing and deducting, all without any true answers, Erick could only decide on one thing: He was going to ask the dragons about Wizards, whenever one of them showed up.

And he would never, ever, tell anyone that he was a Wizard, ever. (But he already knew that.)

- - - -

Clan Pale Cow had stopped for the night at a large riverside and Erick parked his yurt a kilometer away, as requested.

Jane offered, “We can go get dinner and bring it back, dad.”

“Or we can just cook here.” Teressa said, “We can [Grow] our own stuff by the river, too.”

They were thinking things were going to go poorly, which was expected, sure. But...

“No no.” Erick said, “We’re going to eat with the clan, and we’re going to be personable. We’ll be back here to sleep soon enough. Besides! Nirzir helped cook! I want to know what it tastes like.”

Nirzir said, “I’m sure it’s as good as they normally make it, but it is just stew.” Nirzir had gotten over much of her fear in the hours since Goldie’s appearance, spending much of that time talking to other people through [Telepathy]. Her voice was now that of a normal-enough teenager, “Though Waveni did promise other dishes!”

Erick smiled. He had already checked out the cooking yurt, so he could confidently say, “I think you’ll be surprised at what they have, tonight.” He hopped off of the yurt, saying, “Come on! Let’s go eat.”

Erick led the way through the trampled grass, and everyone followed. The sun was an hour from setting, and the sky was already awash in orange and gold, while the shadows upon the land seemed purple.

The yurts of the clan had been scattered in an organized manner, looking like white bumps upon the grasses, with people pulled up alongside their friends, or family, but most of those were on the other side of the cooking yurt. The cooking yurt itself was positioned toward Erick’s yurt, which was probably on purpose; Either to make it easier for him to approach, or because others were scared of him.

Probably both.

Zan and Solia, and their accompanying baby, had their yurt parked on this side of the cooking yurt, though. Those people were clearly okay with Erick, which was nice to see. The hawkery was similarly positioned toward Erick’s approach to the cooking yurt, and that was nice, too. Both places were emptied of their people, though, as those people were already at the cooking yurt.

The cooking yurt was visible for kilometers already, but once Erick got close enough, his people could see what Clan Pale Cow had done, and they relaxed. None of them had said anything too judgmental of the clan, but they were thinking it, for sure. Erick was thinking he was unwelcomed, too, but that changed when he saw what they were putting up for him.

Torches held upon poles all around the cafeteria zone, creating a perimeter to the party, while colorful streamers and fabrics had been pulled out of storage and draped over every table and over the sides of every nearby yurt. Clansmen played their drums and their cellos, beating out a cheerful song into the night as kegs were already tapped, and the beer was already flowing. It didn’t take them long to get this up and running; they were already 90% prepared by the time the clan stopped for the night, with people running back and forth between the yurts of the clan for the last few hours. That final 10% was just the drivers of the other yurts finally showing up for the party and the placement of torches stuck into the grassland.

The people wore their best clothes, and as an unorganized group, they stopped their chatter when Erick came into the wide circle of light.

Niyazo came out of the group, and spoke above all, “Welcome to Clan Pale Cow, Archmage Flatt. May the sun always greet you with warmth and light, and if it does not, know that there is always a place at our table for you and yours.”

Erick smiled.

As one, every clansman called out, “Welcome to Clan Pale Cow!”

The roar turned into a disorganized cheer, and Erick soon found himself with a beer shoved in his hand and an invitation to partake of the whole roasted cow, and all the other foods they had made for this feast. Breads. Rices of more than just the white variety. Sauces. Grilled vegetables of all kinds.

As he got himself some food, a young woman also in line for the food asked him if that sign above his yurt was for anyone. Erick happily replied that yes, it was, for now, but it might not stay that way. Another woman asked him if he was going to [Grow] some food with them, tomorrow. Erick had already planned on a little of that, and so he told them this much.

Conversations started organically, or, more realistically, based on some hierarchy of clan status, along with Erick’s own physical location in the party, and if it looked like a good moment to start up a conversation, or not. Most of the talking went quick, with a small question and a polite answer, or a nice comment, or a thanks. Everyone seemed to want to make him feel welcomed, and they did.

And then Erick felt even better about the night when a young man approached, one hand nervously held in the other, and asked a scandalous question right in the middle of everyone.

“I have a small problem of a magical nature, Archmage Flatt, and I was wondering if you could help.”

A few people flinched at the mention of magic, but everyone listened in; even those having conversations at other tables. They were polite about the snooping, of course, and no one was actually putting Erick in the middle of the clan and then bombarding him with questions. Some people at other tables were deep in the middle of their own stories and jokes and laughter, and they didn’t give one whit to whatever Erick was doing. This was a family gathering; not an interrogation. People were simply making their way to Erick as they were wont, and this young man was very much in need of something rather important.

From the other nearby table, Speaker Yorila watched the young man with deep interest.

Erick still had yet to talk to her, too, but he imagined she would get involved soon enough.

Erick said to the young man, “I’d lend an ear. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

With approximately all of his gumption and bravery, words spilled out of the young man, “I have never been good at magic and I feel I need to be good at magic if danger can [Blink] in like that person did and I—” He cut himself off, either his words failing him or the sudden silence of everyone else forcing him to be quiet himself.

Erick guessed, “You’ve never been good at magic, so you want some tips?”

The young man nodded, shaking his head up and down with vigor.

Other people listened with keen interest.

Erick nodded, then said, “There are many things that are not told about how to make mana into magic, for to tell these secrets is to invite disaster upon the unsuspecting. I might, however, be able to give you some hints, if I find a reason to tell you some of these smaller secrets, and if you make an appointment. The paperwork is in that box at my yurt. Feel free to take a form and fill it out.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll go do that right now!”

And then the kid rushed away without waiting for another word from Erick.

The rest of the night went a lot better than Erick’s first night with Clan Pale Cow.

Time wore on. Food was packed away. More beer came out. People danced, though Erick just talked to people who wanted to talk. It was nice.

It was at least two more hours of casual conversation, much of it about nothing at all, or about news that other people had heard, before Erick decided to leave the party, mostly because he could tell Nirzir was socially exhausted. Teressa and Jane both had people they were talking to, about teaching and about cheese, respectively, so they stayed back. In the full dark, and with Nirzir leading the way in a hurry to retreat to a quieter space, Nirzir, Erick, and Poi, walked back to the yurt.

One of Ophiel had remained on top of the box the whole time, handing out forms and taking them back from people who brought them back. Erick was surprised to see that half of the forms were gone. He was even more surprised to see that only three of them had been returned, filled out. Perhaps the bloody thumbprint scared off most people; it would have scared off Erick, for sure.

Only the first two forms were from people Erick knew, with one form being from Urshao, the young man with the magical problem whom Erick had talked to at the party, and the other from Speaker Yorila.

The third was from a ‘Warlord Linxel’, from ‘Clan Green Grass, a True Traveler clan’, who wanted to talk about ‘your intention to join the debates at Ooloraptoor, and a counteroffer to prevent that joining’. A location and desired time was given for the talk, and while Erick had no idea where ‘the Twin Rocks along the Barlaxl tributary’ was located, Ophiel had seen everyone who took a form and who brought the form back, and a thumbprint of blood had been put into the provided box. After a few failed [Cascade Imaging]s for the woman who brought back the completed form (which meant something but Erick wasn’t sure what, though he wasn’t going to jump to sinister explanations right yet), Erick Imaged for the blood in the thumbprint. He found Clan Green Grass. They were camped out by a massive boulder that had been split in half, beside a shallow river; the Twin Rocks and the Barlaxl tributary, for sure. Tomorrow morning Erick would meet with Linxel at the man’s desired time, and place. After that, he would meet with Urshao and Yorila.

Erick wasn’t sure why, but sleep came easy that night.

In the morning, he figured the easy sleep came because of two reasons. The first, was that the people around him had welcomed him into their society, even though he brought trouble with him. That was respectable and brave of them. The second, was that Erick was preparing to do something he had done for two decades already.

He was going to meet a client!

And there was paperwork, and everything!

And what’s more: Erick was himself the person who decided if the people he saw got help, or not.

… Which was both a blessing and a curse, really.

The caravan got underway early that morning, for today was a day of distant travel and they needed all the time they could get.

So while Jane and Nirzir were out at the other yurts, learning to make cheese and learning how to cook, Erick sat back in his captain’s chair, feeling the wind upon his face and the sun against his skin. A little while later, at the appropriate time, he retreated inside the yurt, into the dense air, and prepared to meet a client.

- - - -

Three Ophiels, each wrapped in sunform and carrying supplies, descended from the sky to land upon the grasses near two twin rocks. Two Ophiel set down a pair of comfortable office-like chairs, though they were certainly not called that on Veird. The third Ophiel set down a perch.

And then Erick took control and set the chairs two meters apart, to face each other, while the perch went to stand behind one of the chairs. Each Ophiel alighted upon the perch, each set to look out for magics and otherwise, while Erick shaped light from the lowest Ophiel to project his own image, standing there at the meeting site.

Clan Green Grass was stationed only fifty meters away. People stood at their yurt, staring at the display of magic. Those people had been expecting Erick and their faces said as much. Other people, at other yurts, were googly eyed as they watched the magic happen. Some of them even called out to their neighbors that ‘The Archmage is here!’, prompting even more onlookers.

But at that first yurt, a message was quickly passed to the person inside. Not thirty seconds later a man came out of that home. He was incani with dark blue skin and large, spiraling horns, but he might have had some orcol mixed in there, too, for he was easily half a meter taller than most other people. No lower fangs, though. His clothes were deep brown and black hunting leathers; he matched half of the people in the clan. The other half of Green Grass clansmen wore white cotton clothes.

The tall man was warlord Linxel, and his people parted for him as he hopped off of his yurt, and headed toward Erick’s little setup.

The lightform Erick had crafted mostly looked like himself, but with white feathers for the face and around other defining characteristics. He could have gone with a very accurate representation, but he had already used this form in several places, and he kinda liked it for this sort of thing.

Soon, Linxel arrived. He looked at Erick’s lightform, then glanced toward Ophiel. He spoke in a deep voice, “Greetings, Archmage Flatt.”

“Greetings, Warlord Linxel.” Erick gestured to his chairs. “Please, sit, and let us discuss what you wish to discuss.”

Linxel frowned a little, then said, “I appreciate the nod toward hospitality, but you are not actually here, and so there can be no hospitality given nor received.”

Erick mirrored Linxel’s manner, saying, “Did you request my presence to discuss pleasantries and ritual, or to discuss my participation in Clan Pale Cow’s upcoming debates?”

Linxel huffed, almost laughing, but that emotion never reached his eyes.

Then he took a chair and sat down.

Erick sat down in his own chair, and said, “My plan for this meeting is to discuss your desires, whatever they might be. If something is said which is unclear to you, or to me, I expect that asking for clarification will not be a burden upon either of us. Know that whatever you say to me will be kept confidential, unless otherwise stated by you. That said: Do you wish for Privacy before we have this talk?”

Linxel tilted his head a little bit, trying to understand the meaning behind Erick’s words. “… Privacy? Do you wish for privacy?”

“I do not care. This is about making you comfortable, as I imagine we will be discussing very large topics.”

“… Yes, then.”

Without hesitation, Erick cast a [Sealed Privacy Ward] across the space, keeping his Ophiel half inside and half outside of the sphere. He could still connect to them, this way.

Linxel looked around. “It is see-through.”

“It is,” Erick said.

Linxel seemed to decide something right quick, then said, “Don’t get involved in the business of us grass travelers, Archmage Flatt. This is not your place. This is not your land. These are not your people, or your decisions to be making. Take your pacified Shades and go elsewhere, please. Our counteroffer to keep you away from our upcoming debates is information about magical troves of power, locked under the Tribulations, and guarded by dark beasts which no one has ever been able to kill. Whatever is down there is certainly worthy of an archmage.”

“Heard and understood. You feel that I am doing this for some sort of material gain, which is true, in a way, but it is not that simple.” Erick said, “Through a series of events which need not be elaborated upon, I am helping Clan Pale Cow with their upcoming debates because it will lure out some dragons, and I wish to find out why some dragon attacked me about two weeks ago. I feel that attacker is somewhere up here, in grass traveler territory.”

Linxel’s eyes narrowed when Erick denied him, and then his eyes bulged when Erick mentioned dragons. Supreme surprise gave way to mirth, and laughter. Roaring laughter; brief, yet complete. Linxel came down to a chuckle then said, “You pursue dragons! Gods above. Of course you want something that crazy. A dragon hoard would be a much finer treasure than whatever is in that dark place under the mountains; only one legendary monster to fight, instead of hundreds of lesser beasts.” And then he considered something. He stared at Erick’s lightform. “You’re truly after dragons, now?”

“At least the one known as the Mirage Dragon.” Erick said, “I will likely stumble across many others in that pursuit.”

“So you heard about the integration war 85 years ago, and the dragon fight that came from that?”

“I have. Through a series of events, this is exactly why I am here.”

“Your dragon attacker could be from anywhere.”

“Could be. But they’re not. They’re somewhere among the grass travelers, hiding— Which brings me to a related problem.” Erick asked, “You know you have face stealers among your people, right? I offered to clean up that problem, but only Clan Pale Cow accepted my help. This was one of the major reasons I have thrown in with their cause, specifically. I know they are who they say they are; everyone else is suspect.” He added, “One of my side goals for this whole thing happening here is to help get rid of those face stealers I missed. Would you like help finding the face stealers among your people?”

“Hmm.” Linxel frowned. “The purge that you gifted to Songli… There was an easier way to do that, than with whatever magics you possess. Clan Green Grass regularly asks our people to disclose their full Status under truthstone. We didn’t actually need your help to carry out that [Cleanse], which is why we denied your help when you offered it the first time.”

Erick frowned, and he let it show upon his avatar. “What you did works for the vast majority of cases, but it never works against the people you need it to work against.”

“That might be true when it comes to living life inside of a city, where no one speaks to their neighbors and no one knows each other’s business.” Linxel said, “Which is why Green Grass is wholly against the integration planned by Pale Cow and other integrating clans. We will lose our individual identity. We will become vulnerable to face stealers, and the other plagues of organized society. Like money and property.” He scowled at his own words, then he thought of something and his expression changed to cautious hope. He said, “So I have a different idea to get you to renege on your agreement with Pale Cow. Since you are after dragons and face stealers: What if Green Grass spoke to other True Traveler clans and we got them to agree to your desire to counter-hunt? We could even start today, with Green Grass itself. I am confident that we have no face stealers or Hunters in our midst, so there will be little upset aside from that which comes from a normal clan-wide Status inquiry, which we have already just finished doing.

“If such an event happens exactly as I think it will, then will you adjust your counter-hunt toward the integrators? Will you forgo participation in our upcoming debates at Ooloraptoor?”

“… Eminently reasonable. But if you find no dragons, which you don’t think you will, then if I agree to this then I will be losing my opportunity to poke at the entirety of your civilization, to see what falls out.” Erick said, “And besides that: You do not have pull with every single True Traveler clan out there, do you? Please understand that I am not after you, or yours; I want what is specifically not a part of your society. I want the dragons.”

Linxel sat back in his chair, regarding Erick. “I will ignore your insult that I cannot deliver what I promise.” He added, “But you are correct in that I cannot deliver the scrutiny of the entirety of our civilization unto you. I would not do so, anyway. You have no place to stand in our society, Archmage. That I am doing this much is a boon to you, and I would appreciate you seeing it as the boon that it is.”

“I see that. I see all of that. And this is why I am making a place for myself with Clan Pale Cow, so that no one needs to give me a boon like you wish to give.” Erick said, “But if you do go ahead with your offer, and if you do find dragons before the debates, and if they are the ones I am looking for, then I might not need to be involved in your society at all. So how about that? You do your normal Status inquiry, with my assistance, and if you find a dragon, then I will take care of it and then go away. But if you don’t, then I will continue as planned, to participate in three of Pale Cow’s debates at Ooloraptoor.” Erick added, “You have three days before we get to the lakeside and a few more days beyond that before the debates start, so there is time for you to think about this.”

Linxel sat in his chair, thinking heavily, and scowling just as hard.

Erick waited.

Linxel said, “I will not need your assistance with this counter-Hunt. In two days I will have new inquiry results of every single member of our clan, and that of twelve others; possibly more. Once they know what my request is for, then they will surely agree. In return, I demand that you not participate in the single debate of my choosing. One of three.”

Which would, of course, be the debate that Pale Cow could possibly lose without him, and that would not work for Erick. And besides that—

“In return for you doing nothing different? For as you have already said, you expect no face stealers or dragons.” Erick asked, “You know you can fool those truthstones, yes?”

Linxel flinched. His voice was briefly unsteady, but solidified rather quick, “You— You can fool those truthstones?”

“It is not easy, but yes.” Erick continued, asking, “And how do I even know that you will do as you say you will? Or even that your Status inquiry is a functioning inquiry that actually works?”

Linxel took offense at this, but he was still reeling from the revelation that truthstones could be faked. He harshly said, “We ask people if they have the [Polymorph] spell, or some other shape changing ability, and if they do, then we ask to see their Familiar Form list. Since there is no way to fake or change that particular Script box, this is a fine measure, since every form is always listed there. Face Stealers never get rid of their original form, so if we see another person-form, then they are killed on the spot.”

Erick had a tough time holding back his vitriol, but he did. The separation between him and his lightform helped.

Erick kept his voice perfectly personable, and said, “The primary way in which a dragon integrates and hides in a new society is to abandon everything they had before, and this means that they only have the one Familiar Form. Your tactics do not uncover the actual problem. Your tactics actually help the dragons and others hide among you, for some Hunters do not hold onto extra person-forms. Some go all the way into their new life. Your methods are flawed, and I can tell that even you know this much.”

And now Linxel was full-angry. He roared, “Then let me be clear: if there are dragons here then WE DO NOT WANT TO KNOW OF THEM!” He threw his arms wide, exclaiming, “Gods above! You cannot expect us to go against dragons!”

Erick was glad that they were finally talking about the actual problem. He said, “You are correct, I do not expect this of you. Which is why I am approaching this problem like I am. So you know: I will try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum, but I will still counter-Hunt those who have Hunted me.”

Linxel lost all his anger. He crashed back down into his chair, looking gutted. “Do not do this to us, Archmage. Please. People will die.”

Erick understood the man’s fear. Collateral damage and direct damage was a valid concern when one was going up against dragons, or against any large power. Collateral damage was even a concern when going against some of the smaller, more insidious powers, like face stealers and Hunters. Erick had compassion for Linxel, for the warlord was fully aware of the problem, but to do anything about the problem would be to invite disaster upon himself, and others.

But to do nothing about those hidden powers was to let them kill and kill again.

It was a choice between horror today, or horror tomorrow and for forever afterward.

Erick said, “People are already dying, Linxel, and you are choosing to ignore the shadows instead of fighting them.”

Linxel sighed.

Erick waited.

Linxel said, “I will need to think on this. Give me three hours, then I wish to speak with you again.”

Erick nodded. “I can do that. But before this conversation ends, know that I am very willing to help you search for the fake people among you.” He asked, “Would you like to talk a bit about that?”

Linxel breathed deep, his massive chest expanding his leathers, as he tilted his head back and stared briefly at the sky. “I can see why you suggested a Privacy spell.” He turned back toward Erick, and said, “I would hear how you would assist in a counter-hunt.”

Erick nodded, then began, “I can Scan where people have been before, and it is through this method that…”

Conversation continued. Linxel listened. He asked questions. Erick informed the man of how some of his other counter-Hunts went, before going on to explain how he would want to implement such an action among Clan Green Grass, and others.

By the end of it, Erick understood that Linxel was not happy, but it was the sort of unhappiness that one got when they saw a terrible thing looming ahead of them, and they were unsure of how to proceed, though they knew they had to. It was an unhappiness that many warriors, mages, and warlords were accustomed to feeling. It was just another day on Veird.

The conversation wrapped up from there, with Linxel going back to his clan and Erick taking back the chairs and perch back with him, for now. He’d bring the furniture back in a few hours to have another conversation with the warlord, but until then, he had other people to meet.

- - - -

The caravan was underway with Erick’s yurt rolling alongside on the eastern flank of Clan Pale Cow. He had returned to his captain’s chair where he could oversee his summoned cows as they plodded along, matching pace with the rest of the caravan. He was proud of that spell; those cows barely needed any instruction at all beyond the initial ‘Keep pace with the rest of the caravan’. They wouldn’t listen to anyone else, though, and that was kinda funny.

Urshao, the young man from last night who asked Erick about magic, thought the cows were marvelous miracles. He had come aboard at an invitation from Erick and now he sat on the chair opposite of Erick’s own, staring at the cows, trying to understand them.

He was mostly just working up the courage to speak about magic, though. They had gotten through the pleasantries, and now they were stuck here.

So Erick prodded along the conversation, “You’re looking for magic tips, correct?”

Urshao whipped his head around to look at Erick. He went, “Uh. Yes? Sir?”

“Do you plan on harming other people with magic?”

Urshao startled again. And then he forced himself to calm down. He spoke clearly, “Only if those people threaten me or my people.” He deflated a bit. “The main threat is always monsters, though, and if people actually threaten us then Koori or Ibahka or any of the cowherds would step in and take care of the problem. I just need to be able to tow my own weight, sir, and magic is how I want to do it because… Because I went for Scion of Focus when I was young and dumb. I didn’t even go for Balance.” The blood drained from his face, as he said, “I made a mistake and I’ve never been able to fix it.”

The kid wasn’t lying. Good. He passed the first hurdle, and then he went on to pass a few more hurdles beyond that first one.

Erick relaxed. “I wish to have the rest of this conversation in private. Do you mind?”

“Not at all, sir! Do what you must!”

With a thought, a [Sealed Privacy Ward] blossomed around the space. The exterior world remained visible, but anyone looking in would only see empty chairs. If observers used a magic sensing spell they would see a white sphere, which indicated something was happening here, but there was nothing that Erick could do about that right now.

Urshao looked around, his eyes going wide as his heart slammed a harsh beat inside his chest. He was not only nervous, but giddy with excitement.

With a tempering voice, Erick asked, “How do you normally go about making magic?”

“I’ve got—” His voice cracked. Urshao continued, “I’ve got Mana Altering and about half of what a man needs to get into arcanaeum, but… Not the full set. That was another mistake I made.” Urshao deflated. “I don’t expect to be able to defend from a Shade, but I want to be able to make a [Fireball] that doesn’t cost three hundred mana and only does Willpower in damage.”

“Why haven’t you joined Speaker Yorila’s yurt? Even if you are in an orthodox clan, you still have a magic teacher.”

Embarrassed, again, Urshao said, “I don’t have leave to tutor under Speaker Yorila. She’s only allowed three apprentices and I aged out of every opportunity I had with her. I was just never good enough.” He looked to Erick with hope in his eyes. “I could abandon my home and travel to Songli and maybe join their army, but… I want to be here, at home, to help my family. They’ve supported me and my decisions all this time and I have to support them, too.” He added, “I’m good with [Grow], though, which is the usual thing I do; [Grow] foods for everyone and treats for the cows, too.”

Erick had been evaluating the young man using [Soul Sight] and [True Sight] and all of his Perception-enhanced skill, this entire time, exactly as he had done with Warlord Linxel. Urshao was alright. A bit sad. A bit lonely. A bit ostracized. But he was more or less exactly who he appeared to be.

Erick decided to help. He asked, “How good are you with wardlights?”

“Oh…” The kid’s face fell. “Not very. We don’t use those around here.”

“Let’s start smaller, then. How do you put together your spellwork?”

“Uh. Visualization and casting the spells at the same time, with an intent toward the desired outcome.” Urshao tentatively asked, “Same as everyone?”

“Have you ever heard of gridwork?”

“… Never?” Urshao looked up and away, thinking. He turned back, saying, “Never heard of it.”

The lesson on gridwork lasted a good 45 minutes. Toward the end, Erick had Urshao conjuring wardlights that showed, in a very scribbly sort of way, how to make a [Fireball]. To make sure that the kid took the lesson home Erick grabbed a pebble from the ground outside and attached to it a simple, by-the-book [Fireball] grid of his own working. The boy took the wardlight like he was accepting a great treasure.

Erick sent Urshao off with a pat on the back, saying, “Good luck. Don’t blow up anything that you don’t want to blow up.”

Urshao solidly said, “I thank you for your help. I will never abuse this trust and power. If I am ever able to repay you, I will.”

Erick smiled at the earnestness in Urshao’s expression, saying, “Just don’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it.”

Urshao bowed. Erick canceled the Privacy around them, and then Urshao left, hopping off of Erick’s yurt, to run back to his own yurt where he lived with his parents. He’d be okay.

Erick moved on.

He sent Ophiel over to Speaker Yorila’s yurt and invited the woman over to his own.

Yorila arrived with a smile on her face, and a bottle of wine in her hand, saying, “Welcome to Clan Pale Cow, Archmage Flatt; Erick.” She handed over the bottle, saying, “This is for you, but for later, if you wish. For now, I only wish to know if your needs are being met by the clan, if I could try some of that coffee that I heard you like, and if you wouldn’t be opposed to ending some long-standing threats both monstrous and animal that exist here and there upon the plains.”

Erick smiled as he accepted the bottle, saying, “I would be happy to take care of some threats. I’d like to ask you about some other clans out there, too. Please, sit, and let us talk. Do you wish for a Privacy?”

Yorila sat down saying, “Oh no no no. No need. We’re far enough away from the clan, and truthfully, I get a kick out of teasing my people with ~scary magic~ Ha!”

Erick laughed, and sat down across from the old woman.

Teressa served them coffee.

Yorila spoke of large, worm-like animals that lived deep within the ground, which only came up when herds of cows trampled along, to gobble up cow and man alike. She spoke of airborne threats that lived far up in the clouds, but which dropped down invisible threads that snagged upon any living thing and yanked those meals high into the sky. There were elementals made of stone, each the size of a small mansion, that lifted from the ground like great hiding spiders to chase down whatever had disturbed them, and from which clans had to run, but from which some always failed to escape.

Erick found them all. He found more than Yorila expected, too.

In a short hour, many outsized threats were ended. Traveling along the grass was made that much safer.

The conversation moved on to other clans and of face stealers, and of how justice was carried out when Pale Cow found face stealers amongst themselves.

Yorila said, “The problem with face stealers is that they are so very good at hiding, and barely anyone knows what to actually look for. Some clans make do with truthstones, which is a fool’s idea of justice. Some ask for Familiar Form lists, and this is a bit better. Clan Pale Cow does [Telepathy] testing, but only in the most dire of situations as what happened with Amasar and all the rest. That test fails about half the time because true face stealers become their stolen body. The [Telepathy] test works very well when you’re in an active face stealer situation, though, for it takes longer than a day to acclimate to a new Form.” She frowned, saying, “All of our face stealers were well acclimated.” She tossed that emotion away, saying, “The way your [Cascade Imaging] can track where someone has been and what they have touched is about the only decent way to actually track a face stealer. Though I am sure they’ll come up with some way around that. It might take them a dozen years, though. One of them will become a Particle Mage and then they’ll figure out your spell and then we’re back to where we were before.”

Erick said, “Maybe. Maybe not. Might take a lot longer than a dozen years for people to figure out.”

“Let’s hope so.” Yorila breathed in, smiled, and said, “This was a very nice talk. I’d love to have another talk with you when I have some other problem that needs solving, or if you’d like to talk about the weather sometime— Ah. That was a saying, not a specific ask toward your magic. Anyway.” She stood. “Thank you for killing those threats, Erick.”

Erick stood with her, saying, “Anytime, Yorila.”

Yorila hopped off of the yurt and raced toward Clan Pale Cow in the distance, moving like she wasn’t one of the oldest women in the clan.

Erick went back into his yurt, into the safety of [Prismatic Ward], and then he sent Ophiel out to check on Clan Green Grass. Linxel might be ready with an answer by now.

- - - -

White light flickered high above the Twin Rocks. Three Ophiels stepped onto the air, two of them carrying chairs, one of them carrying a perch. Down below, Clan Green Grass was exactly as Erick had left it. He had his Ophiel descend to the prearranged spot, next to the large rocks.

The clan instantly recognized Ophiel’s arrival.

The thing wearing Linxel’s body came out of his yurt and went to Ophiel.

When the face stealer came near, he said, “Our deals are done. I have decided against seeking your assistance against Clan Pale Cow’s Integration schemes, for I have decided to block your clanfriend status with the Elders of Ooloraptoor. It shouldn’t take much of a debate to get your participation blocked. Goodbye.”

And then he turned and left.

Erick had to hand it to the impostor. The manner of voice was the same. The straightness of Linxel’s back was the same. The man was physically and emotionally as large and as powerful as he had been before.

The soul was a different color, though. Not much different. But different enough. Instead of being dark blue, it was just blue. That, by itself, was not enough to mark the man as fake. Maybe someone just soul-fucked him between then and now—

Hopefully someone just soul-fucked him! That would make the sudden hole in Erick’s heart feel less like a sudden abyss, and more like a temporary problem.

—But Erick tried to [Telepathy] the man, and all he got back was static.

Erick came back to himself and looked to Poi, who had such a terrible guilty look that Erick could only put two and two together, to arrive at the doorstep of a horrible truth.

As the impostor walked away, Erick realized he likely would have done something to ‘Linxel’ had he had full control of his emotions, but he did not. He decided to take a minute to think about what he was going to do before he decided to do it. ‘Linxel’s yurt was only 50 meters from Ophiel. The killer was eminently reachable. He would keep for a while.

Erick could call out to him right now and drag him back for more talking, too.

There were a lot of options, right now.

But Linxel was already gone.