Sitting under one of a hundred small, scattered Privacys on Yggdrasil’s branches, Erick fell into Yggdrasil’s consciousness like a man falling into a waking dream. It took a moment to come to terms with the unreality of viewing the world through his largest summon’s ‘eyes’, but Erick waded through fiery water and liquid stone and airy waves, and found the threads that connected Yggdrasil to himself.

Both threads led off in two different directions. One toward the beach with the cavern that led toward the embassy, while the other led off into the riverways that fed the waterfalls on the other side of Yggdrasil’s cavern. Beyond that, the journey was much more ethereal; messier than when Erick was in the Core. When he was in the Core, the path had been clean, but here, the path was strewn with everything and nothing all at once.

According to what he was seeing, Erick was somewhere deep under the Surface, under the ocean that separated Nelboor, Quintlan, and Nergal. Both paths toward the other Yggdrasils almost crossed the edge of the Core, but instead they bent around that space like curving lightbeams. Yggdrasil and Erick were, perhaps, extremely far away from home. The connection didn’t seem weak at all, though, so that was good. No unexpected barriers down in this ephemeral liquid land.

He went to the body of Yggdrasil that he thought was close to Poi and sent out an inquiry.

He waited.

‘Sir?’ came Poi’s groggy voice. And then Poi realized what was happening and shouted, ‘Erick! You’re alive!’

Erick felt a flush of warmth rush through his entire body, and then tears flowed, filled with all his rage and hate and subtle joy of being safe, for now. While he bawled like a baby, it didn’t affect his ability to send, and so he sent, ‘It’s good to hear your voice, Poi. Is everyone doing okay?’

‘Yes. Everyone is fine.’ Poi let some of his own warmth flow through their connection as he happily sent, ‘I am glad to inform you that, due to the spellwork you allowed me to share with Kiri, that she has been able to take over much of the defense of the city, almost entirely on her own. 12 hour [True Sunlight Rifts] that empower everyone on every battlefield with pure light, while the same spell is shifted toward damage and positioned out across the—’ Poi paused, then said, ‘[Luminous Beam] has shifted the entire battlefield, too. We’re winning easily… Uh. I shouldn’t tell you. Not when you’re still on the Worldly Path.’

‘That’s fine, Poi.’ Erick chuckled a bit, then sent, ‘I’m glad to know that everyone is doing well. What time is it, there?’

After a moment, Poi sent, ‘Looks like nearly noon. Most of Spur is on night shifts, now. Jane is up, though. Want me to connect you?’

‘In a moment. I need to talk… I need to know about a few people, and you probably know of them.’ Erick sent, ‘Have you ever heard of High Inquisitor Kromolok or Sitnakov Stratagold? I also need information on Tasar the Summoner; more than we already had. Tasar is to be my keeper till the end of this Worldly Path, so I want to know who I’ve saddled myself with.’

Dread filled the connection. Poi lightly sent, ‘I know of them, yes. I…’ He decided something, his voice turning serious, ‘Tasar the Summoner is the least dangerous of the three, but it would be folly to call any of those people ‘harmless’. She is aligned with the Headmaster and Stratagold, but leans toward the Headmaster. Of Kromolok or Sitnakov, I have no idea which is more dangerous. High Inquisitor… High Inquisitor Kromolok is a man you do not cross lightly, though he is always fair in his dealings until the safety of the world is threatened. Uh. Sitnakov is a world famous hero but everyone thinks he’s in retirement? He’s not? Uh.’ Poi sent, ‘I need a full rundown of what happened— URK!’

The line went dead.

Erick did not panic, for he was already keeping himself as calm as he could. He simply cast [Telepathy] again, trying to reestablish their connection.

The connection returned.

Erick blinked hard as he breathed out, ragged and worn, but very thankful that Poi was still alive. ‘You okay?’

Quietly, Poi sent, ‘I tried to send in a request for information, covering my options, and got— They denied me and warned me against interfering. Kromolok, himself, denied me. I think… I think you’re going to be okay, but they’re starting an official inquiry about you… According to everything I knew before you went down there such an inquiry would have returned a result of ‘do not interfere’. Did something happen to change that? I mean. It must have?’

‘I’ve never heard you so nervous before.’ Erick asked, ‘Should I be worried?’

‘About me? No. I’m fine. Jane is fine and Spur is fine. Everyone here is good.’ Poi sent, ‘You should focus on yourself to get through this inquiry as fast and as securely as possible.’

‘… Okay. Then, about that. I’m a Wizard, apparently. Paradox.’

A pause.

Poi sent, ‘It finally happened, huh.’

‘Rozeta helped me and installed a plug that she could pull if I look to go bad. It’s complicated. Does this mean that they’re going to kill me, Poi?’

‘Not necessarily.’ Resigned to giving out secrets, Poi sent, ‘We send Wizards into hiding sometimes, wiping out their Wizardry and setting them up with new, happy lives here or there. You won’t choose that path though, so you’re going to have to be careful. I don’t know much about how Wizardry works, but as long as you don’t form a core then you should be okay. Nothing will change—’ Poi cut himself off. ‘You didn’t.’

‘I both did, and did not. I went with Paradox Wizardry, with Rozeta’s help. She wants to control my Worldly Path but Melemizargo isn’t handing it over and no one wants him involved in helping me to make [Gate], so I need to find another Wizard to end the Path and actually make the [Gate Creator Summon], or whatever it is. Such a spell requires Wizardry, though, and since I’m already a Wizard… The option was obvious.’

After a moment, Poi sent, ‘Are you planning on being open with this?’

Erick instantly sent, ‘Gods no! Hiding for all time. Though I did make [Renew], and apparently that was an act of Wizardry. I have a year of hiding, but likely less than that if we’re being honest.’

‘Hold up.’ Poi said, ‘Okay. Okay. Okay… Hold on.’

Erick waited.

Poi sent, ‘Okay. I’m ready to continue. First, I want you to know that I am very thankful that you trust me enough to have this conversation. This right here is very dangerous information. Perhaps more than you’ve ever touched upon before. I’m still here and with you, but many people of Spur will not want to associate with Wizards… Or… Okay. I have a large idea about how many other people will react when they find out you’re a Wizard, but no one really knows a mind breaks when faced with new threats; anyone telling you otherwise is a liar or controlling how those minds break. I know for sure how I’m reacting, though, and it’s to say that I’m going to stay by your side through whatever comes.’

Erick felt another warmth in his chest. He had been deeply worried about a thousand small things, and one of those worries had been about the people around him abandoning him. After all, Wizards were thought to have destroyed the Old Cosmology. A powerful enough Wizard could easily break a single planet like Veird. Apparently, Melemizargo could end Veird at any time. But Wizards could also create.

Wizards were hunted down by everyone in power, either to end an existential threat, or because Wizards were able to twist both subjective Reality and objective reality as they saw fit. While most of the populace would want to kill a known Wizard, dragons wanted to capture and torture and mutate Wizards in order to rid themselves of their Cursed Blood.

From what Erick had found out while walking this Worldly Path he had expected Poi and everyone else to stab him in the back the second he revealed himself as a Wizard.

He had been prepared to leave Spur behind, to forget everyone that he had ever known and cared about, except for Jane, of course. He was pretty sure he knew how Jane would react to this news, but he had needed to keep her ignorant of this part of his life, to keep her safe. Once his Wizardly status was outed to the world, he would likely need to abandon Spur for their own safety…

But he was glad to see that Poi would remain at his side.

With uncommon relief on his mind, Erick sent, ‘I’d say you don’t know how much your trust means to me, Poi, but you’re one of the only ones who truly would know how much this means. Thank you.’

A trill of quiet happiness filled their connection, and then Poi said, ‘I’m glad you’re okay, Erick.’ He added, ‘But with all that said, we move on to this: What the FUCK were you thinking?’

Laughing, Erick sent, ‘Want me to start at the top?’

A sigh. ‘Yes. From when we last spoke. You were setting up Yggdrasil in the Outer Core?’

Erick mentally nodded, then began, ‘So…’

They spoke for an hour. Talk of Wizards ended up being a small fraction of that time, with the conversation quickly moving on to the public stories of Kromolok, Sitnakov, and Tasar. Poi explained that he had a bit of trouble pulling apart what he knew from public knowledge, to what he knew from Mind Mage matters, so he erred on the side of caution and kept his words about them all rather short, to ensure that he wouldn’t break Mind Mage protocols.

At the end, Poi summed his caution up, sending, ‘They’re three of the most dangerous people on the planet, but you’re right up there with them. The only differences are that you’re an unknown and mortal— No. You’re immortal now. Uh. Well. You’re not going to tell them that, are you? Kromolok would know because he— Ah. I didn’t say that last part.’

Erick smiled. ‘No. Not planning on telling anyone I’m immortal now.’

‘Good. Well… With some fantastic amounts of luck, you might actually get to experience that immortality, but most immortals don’t make it far past middle-adulthood due to monsters and intrigue— Anyway.’ Poi sent, ‘You’re an unknown and, for all intents and purposes, mortal, so they won’t respect you at all. Try not to take it personally. I would like to save all further international incidents for after your Worldly Path, when you’re back home and I can be present for all brewing calamities. Maybe we can get in front of this Wizard thing so that when [Renew] comes out it’s not as bad as it could be.’

Erick laughed a little. ‘It’s good to talk to you, Poi. I’m probably going to need those Mind Mage therapists when I get back home.’

‘Yes, you will.’ Poi sent, ‘Want to talk to Jane?’

‘Absolutely. And thank you, Poi. I wasn’t sure… Thank you.’

Poi just mentally nodded.

And then Jane’s voice burst through Erick’s head, ‘DAD! WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL ME FIRST?’

Erick laughed, sending, ‘Because I’m still in a very dangerous situation and I needed help and guidance from Poi. I hear you’re in a dangerous situation, too.’

‘… No you didn’t hear anything like that. Not from me.’ Jane went silent for a moment, then she said, ‘I’m not supposed to talk about what’s been going on here, but I think I can say… Yeah. We’re doing fine. It is what it is, and we’re fine. How about you? How’s the Underworld been treating you?’

‘It’s a shitshow.’ Erick sat back in his chair, happily saying, ‘So let me tell you all about it, starting with this: If you don’t have a Domain, don’t come to the deep Underworld, because every high level monster has a Domain. Every single one, and most of them are strong.’

‘Huh.’ Jane said, ‘I guess that tracks with what I’ve been able to find, which has been almost nothing. Unless you got a Domain, you just die down there, eh?’

‘Yeah.’ Erick said, ‘On the way back from the Core I even came across a Variant Deathsoul Shroom and my ‘escorts’ —all very high powered people— tried to go around it, but I blasted the shroom away with [Luminous Beam]. There’s been a few monsters like that. Probably shouldn’t try to get one of those variant monstrous forms until you have a Domain, too. Maybe not even then. I don’t know how monster Domains work, but if the Queen Blood Weaver was tough, then these are likely worse.’

‘Bah.’ Jane mentally frowned. ‘Heard and Understood, commander.’

Erick smiled. Then he said, ‘But other than that…’

He spoke. Jane listened. Then Jane talked and Erick listened. They went back and forth on some of the monsters he had seen, while she tried to understand whatever abilities they might have had, before Erick obliterated them. And then they moved on to the Core, and the wrought. Jane’s anger mirrored Erick’s own, and he felt a few tears roll down his face as he listened to her tirade. It was nice. And then she calmed a fraction and had some words to say about what the wrought were doing and trying to do to him. Eventually, she agreed with his choice to forgo total violence. She also agreed that she didn’t like any of the Underworld wrought she had ever met.

‘We’ve got some adamantium wrought up here working with Anhelia to take back Ar’Kendrithyst, and they’ve been rather haughty about it all. They won’t talk to anyone who isn’t a wrought.’

‘Their line is probably more that they won’t talk to any non-immortal.’ Erick sent, ‘And speaking of such, I realized that you should be immortal with your monsters and learning how to properly work [Polymorph].’

‘… Well.’ Jane seemed to breathe deep, then she said, ‘I’m not there yet, but I realized the implications of a skilled [Polymorph] a while ago. You wanna talk about it?’

Erick smiled. Jane was keeping secrets from him, too, wasn’t she? That was fine.

‘I do want to talk about it.’ Erick decided to tell Jane a small lie that was effectively the truth, but in another form, ‘I’ve decided to try to learn how to [Polymorph] my way to immortality. That, or else make an [Immortality] spell based on DNA repair and [Cleanse]ing magic and such. I think I got enough time to make a ‘[Full Restore]’ spell as long as I don’t have a sudden bout of assassin-itis or wrought-induced trauma.’

Jane laughed, then said, ‘If anyone can figure it out, I’m sure you can.’

‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out, too.’ Erick said, ‘I love you, Jane.’

‘I love you, dad.’ Jane said, ‘Get some rest. Eat some good food that isn’t a thousand years old.’

‘Maybe I will. There’s restaurants all over the tunnels outside the embassy.’ Erick added, ‘And hey! Maybe I’ll meet more wrought that aren’t assholes. I have high hopes for Tasar, and minimal hopes for Kromolok, but Sitnakov seems like a lost cause.’

‘The name Sitnakov still seems familiar to me… I’ll have to check out the Adventurer's Guild’s archives. I’ll get back to you about that next time you give me a ring.’

‘Thanks. Send my love to everyone else. I’ll be home soon enough. I’ll try for a week.’

‘Maybe longer than that.’ Jane sent, ‘Not before you get [Gate], right?’

‘... Right.’ Erick added, ‘Yeah. I suppose so. That means I’m likely headed toward Oceanside next.’

With a sarcastic bent, Jane teased, ‘Finally getting into the Quiet War!’

‘Maybe I’ll end it! Now there’s a laugh.’

‘Heh.’ Jane mentally nodded, then said, ‘I love you, dad.’

‘I love you, too, Jane.’

A moment of silence. And then...

The connection frayed, and broke.

Erick sat back in his conjured recliner, on the upper reaches of Yggdrasil, staring at the barely-moving fiery green canopy overhead, and the lightning-like branches that held those leaves above. Beyond the roof of Yggdrasil the world was bright with near-true sunlight, given off by ten thousand crystals jutting from the ceiling near 20 kilometers above. Some of those crystals were the size of skyscrapers, but they looked more like LEDs on the ceiling from this distance.

In the far distance, at the edge of the cavern nearly 15 kilometers away, a facsimile of three Niagara Falls, side by side, fell into the waters of this lake, providing a wonderful sound of distant, rushing water. A slight breeze came from that direction, barely rustling Yggdrasil’s leaves, as the wind continued on toward the tunnel leading toward the embassy, passing through there and a hundred smaller air holes in the cavern. This place was well ventilated, for sure. The lake waters were well piped as well, draining through holes in the bottom of the lake, near even more skyscraper-sized illuminated crystals that jutted up from the waters, providing glows everywhere, and especially in the depths, chasing away all shadows.

Yggdrasil was doing a great job of chasing away the shadows, too, with all of his myriad glows.

The area felt safe.

Erick felt able to relax, if only a little.

Talking to Poi had helped. Talking to Jane had cemented his mental state. He was ready to proceed with life. But to make sure he was stable he had at least one more task. He switched over to his Other Self, and ate his own mana with [Renew]. He felt a lot better about everything after that. He was still at base Stats in his Other Form, but he was up in levels by a lot; mostly due to cycling. [Renew] had yet to reach level 10 because Erick still only had 200 maximum Mana, and leveling spells was slow when you couldn’t dump defectively endless resources at them. It hadn’t changed at all even with the few levels it had gained, though.

He could have put some points toward Clarity and Meditation and Resource multipliers, like Concentration and Discipline, but…

… He could probably go hunting for monster meat and eat it to gain some Strength; fortify his physical Stats a bit while he was still able to do that. Save some points in the future...

Eh.

Too much effort for too little gain. At least right now, anyway. He didn’t want to do much of anything with his Other Self at the moment except to ensure it didn’t drag him down with unexpected rage. Once he was in a better place he could actually start leveling that side of him. And besides that, what if he unknowingly and accidentally crossed some threshold and he was kicked off the Script? No; there would be no fortification of his Other Self at all, for now.

Erick switched over to his Normal Self and decided it was time to sleep. Food, exploration, meeting new people, all that would all come later, after he had some time to actually rest.

He conjured a bed and all the appropriate bedding and then he dismissed his armor and stripped to his underwear. A [Cleanse] washed away all recent signs of stress and fatigue and then Erick climbed into bed. A recast of his [Personal Ward] made him feel a fraction safer, but...

He asked, “Yggdrasil? Are you okay? Do you like this new cavern?”

“I good. I like cavern. Little fish all places.”

With a tired smile, Erick said, “Good.” And then he patted Ophiel and tucked himself in.

He was as safe as could be, for now.

Ophiel and Yggdrasil kept thousands of eyes on him and their surroundings, popping [Scry] eyes like clearing raindrops from the air. They only got the close ones, though. The cavern was 30 kilometers wide and 20 tall, with Yggdrasil in the exact center of it all, and only 3 kilometers across. There was a lot of space out there for a long range [Scry], so the only thing protecting Erick from those were the decoy [Sealed Privacy Ward]s scattered all over Yggdrasil like Christmas ornaments. Erick’s largest summon took up less than one percent of the available space down here…

Ah. Yeah; Yggdrasil didn’t take up a whole lot of space, but he was bigger than the last time Erick had seen him. Perhaps he was bigger back in the Core, too, but Erick hadn’t noticed the change until now. Yggdrasil was growing up.

They always grow up faster than you’re ready for.

At that pleasant, sorrowful thought, Erick closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Oblivion claimed him faster than he thought it would.

- - - -

Erick woke with a start—

He began applying his defenses as soon as he could, his mind already reaching out for Yggdrasil and Ophiel, who were both all around. A terrified second passed as Erick discovered that nothing was wrong.

… And then he groaned into his palms while Ophiel chirped, welcoming Erick back to the world of the awake as Erick had a broken, heavy moment with himself, trying to put himself back into the ‘now’.

Yggdrasil said, “Good morning, Father.”

Ophiel gently rammed right into Erick’s chest like an excited cat, and Erick was forced to move his hands away from his own face to cuddle the little guy. It was difficult at first, but being a parent was about showing your children that you were capable and strong, especially in those early years. As he had once done while he was with Jane, he now did with Ophiel and Yggdrasil; he pretended to be okay, and eventually, that would be the truth. ‘Eventually’ only took three seconds, this time, as he looked down at the ball of feathers and eyes cuddling his chest, and out at Yggdrasil, all around.

Erick smiled. “Good morning,” he told the ball of feathers. He looked up, saying, “Good morning, Yggdrasil. Did anything happen while I was asleep?”

“Nothing happen. You not sleep long.”

“How long was I out?”

“… Not know.” Yggdrasil’s bark briefly dimmed—

Erick instantly said, “That’s okay, Yggdrasil. I was just curious, anyway.”

Yggdrasil’s bark returned to its normal glow.

Erick breathed out for a moment, just sitting there on his conjured bed, looking at the world all around. He decided he needed more sleep, but before he did that he recast his spellwork and switched over to his Other Self, to eat a delicious meal of his own mana and cycle his core for a little while. When that was done with that, he changed back to his Normal Self, went to the bathroom in a conjured toilet that led nowhere, [Cleanse]d the mess, and then he reconjured his bed.

Slipping back under the covers, he told Yggdrasil, “One more sleep, then I can start doing other things. Wake me if anything happens, okay?”

“Okay!”

Erick closed his eyes—

And his stomach gurgled something fierce. Still, he refused to wake up right now unless he had to, and he didn’t have to. Eyes closed, he turned—

The bed popped out from under him, sending him falling half a meter to Yggdrasil’s bark and smacking his head on the glowing surface. Apparently he had fucked up with the conjuring. With his face planted on Yggdrasil’s surface, Erick breathed out, and in, and then he just got up. He was awake now. Might as well get something to eat, too.

A protean cannot live on mana alone, apparently.

“You awake?” Yggdrasil asked.

“I guess so,” Erick said.

Standing on the edge of Yggdrasil’s branches, Erick looked down at the clear waters far below. Yggdrasil’s subway-sized roots curved out from his trunk like a basket of snakes unleashed, to dive in and out of the lake bottom, sometimes arcing above the surface like a certain white dragon goddess with her clouds. Erick stared at the calm lake for a little while, feeling the wind and smelling next to nothing. This place was clean and healthy.

Erick asked, “How’s the water, Yggdrasil?”

“It is water.”

“… Do you like being planted in water?”

Yggdrasil paused. “I grow in stone. Water above stone.”

“I mean: Would you like me to plant you in stone, without so much water?”

“No. I like fishes.” Yggdrasil asked, “Do fishes in stone?”

“Do fishes exist in the stones of mountains?” Erick asked. Then he answered, “Not really. There are some flying fishes in the Crystal Forest that live in sand and air, though. A whole flock of them lured a wyrm at me one time.”

Yggdrasil thought for a little while, then said, “Water fishes better. Flying not good. Get in leaves. Roots fine. Leaves not fine.”

Erick smiled. “Is there enough light in this place for you? I can hang more lights around here, if you want.”

Yggdrasil thought for a long moment, his bark flickering with brightness as his canopy and rainbow crown glittered and dimmed. He settled down. “I got light.”

Erick nodded. Then he discarded his clothes to the side, near his bed, and stepped out to the edge of the branch. He looked down at the waters below and felt a giddy sort of flutter in his stomach. It was probably a bad idea to jump from this height, and yet... He had survived worse skydives with less protection!

He jumped.

The wind whistled over his body as he free fell toward the waters below—

At the last moment before splashdown he deployed his sunform and fell from a much more reasonable height of 3 meters. Splash! The water was cold, but it wasn’t freezing. It was a good temperature. Bracing. Invigorating. Erick let himself drift under the waves for a long moment, savoring the sensation of free floating in the middle of this land of strangers, and danger, and then he opened his eyes underwater. He was still alone, save for the small fishes nearer to Yggdrasil’s massive trunk.

His first thought coming back to the moment was an odd one. If he didn’t have his sunform, or other forms of travel, he’d be facing a rather scary ten kilometer swim to shore, or a few kilometer swim to the nearest glowing crystal, or he could take his chances with the nearest structure; the giant glowing tree in the middle of this almost holy space. Erick smiled at that thought, of being stranded out in the middle of nowhere, but not really. And then he swam upward and broke the surface, splashing and feeling great. He looked around and confirmed that yes, he was in the middle of a dangerous situation, but the lake had no monsters, or large fishes, and he was safe under Yggdrasil’s boughs.

And then he tried to float on his back and found himself sinking, instead. Apparently, with this little body fat and all his extra muscles he couldn’t float in water anymore.

Huh.

He didn’t actually know that until now. When was the last time he tried relaxing with a swim? Last year at the bath house with Al? Had he gone for a swim after that? No… Not that he could think of. He had sat in that hot tub in the Core, but that wasn’t a swim. Had he even relaxed lately? A party, perhaps? No, not that he could think of. Not really, anyway. Everywhere, there’s always people, and Erick had needed to be on duty even when he was surrounded by people celebrating the end of the war in Songli, or the banquet at Enduring Forge, or the party after he helped Treehome clear the Forest of moon reachers and deathsoul shrooms…

Even here, he couldn’t truly relax. But he could relax enough.

With a twist and a turn, Erick dove down into the waters, swimming free, letting the water wash over him. When was the last time he actually got to have relaxation time on his own? Like? Surely he had had some. He just couldn’t think of it at the moment.

Yeah. He had to have some relaxation time in the last… 5 months of the Worldly Path? Did making magic count as relaxation? Hmm. Yes; yet no?

Ah. Well. Linxel was certainly relaxing, but it was not meant to be. Darabella wasn’t meant to be, either. Apparently, according to Poi, Enduring Forge and Nelboor had had some tense moments when Erick vanished, but most of those issues were gone now that he had resurfaced in the Underworld. Erick had no idea the depth of those ‘tense moments’, for Poi had been more concerned with more personal, current events, so they had moved on from that talk of Nelboor rather quickly. Apparently Erick hadn’t left too large of a mess, but... He would ask around later, when he was back on the Surface, to see if there were any problems he needed to fix.

But for now, Erick swam back to the surface of Yggdrasil’s new lake and paddled around for a little while, enjoying himself, getting to know how his new body moved. Mostly, he sank. His new body didn’t feel heavy; he felt light and free. But muscle with no fat was denser than water, so as soon as he stopped he began to sink.

So Erick swam and kept swimming, trying not to sink, trying not to think of how everyone was watching, and how he was never going to get any private time, anymore. There were probably some voyeurs out there watching him through [Long Range Scry]s right that very second, but whatever. He was skinny dipping and it was great.

Eventually, most of his thoughts fell away as he just swam. Legs flicking, arms pumping, head turning to take a quick, deep breath, and then back under to blow bubbles out as he moved. It felt good to work his body; to experience what his Stats and arms and legs could do outside of a magical sense. He still kept his mana sense open, and his sunform remained active on his back, but this was great.

Maybe he should take up sparring again. It was fun to sweat sometimes.

Or maybe swimming was a good activity.

But soon enough the water got too cold, and he was beginning to prune, and his stomach was starting to demand to be filled. So Erick lightstepped back up to where he had dumped his clothes on Yggdrasil’s branch, dried himself off with a wipe of his sunform, and redressed.

As he slipped his tunic over his head, Yggdrasil spoke. “I didn’t know you fish.”

Erick smiled wider, saying, “Most things my size can swim. Doesn’t make us fish.”

“No. You fish.”

“I’m glad you like fish, then.”

“Yes. Fish great. Slippy slippy. You fish.”

Erick chuckled. “Looks like you have some good varieties down there, too. Do you know what they’re called?”

“Yes!” And then Yggdrasil opened his floodgates of words, “Rainbow flit. Goldscale slipper. Striped silvertail. Brown cruncher. Red flit. Shortnose hook. Three-eye blackie—”

Erick sat down, asking, “Can you make a lightform to show me what they look like, too?”

“Yes! I do this.” Yggdrasil happily began drawing with light in the air in front of Erick, painting pictures of fish, as he started naming them again. “Rainbow flit. Goldscale slipper…”

They weren’t great pictures, done by someone with years upon years of practice, but they were large and pretty, and Yggdrasil was doing a great job. Erick sat back and watched, feeling better with every passing fight. After about fifty fish, Yggdrasil slowed down. At 65, he had trouble remembering the last one, but it came soon enough.

With a triumphant flicker of light all across Yggdrasil’s body, he announced, “Razor Guppy!” Happily, he said, “And that’s all the fish I know!”

“I’m very proud of you, Yggdrasil.” Erick said, “You know so many fish and you’re so good at lightpainting them.”

Yggdrasil brightened a bit, before settling back down to his normal glow. “I like fish.”

“Where did you learn all the names?”

“Small shadow at candle place. He fisherman. Named fish as caught then I pick fish and he name.”

Erick thought for a moment, then he conjured an image of a man, describing him to Yggdrasil, “Is the fisherman this man? A black incani with black horns and white eyes?”

“Yes. You know?”

“That’s Slip, the captain of the guard for Candlepoint.” Erick said, “He’s the one that makes sure your lake at Candlepoint has the proper fishes necessary to maintain a good ecosystem.”

“What is ‘ecosystem’?”

Erick talked with Yggdrasil for a while, but eventually they ran out of words, and Yggdrasil asked Erick why his stomach was making noises. Erick told Yggdrasil that he would be back later, but he wanted to go get some food to stop the grumbling.

And so, with a lightstep, and as fully clothed to deal with politics and people as he could be, Erick stepped down the beach next to the tunnel to the embassy. The sand got between his toes, for he had lost his shoes way back when he had fallen out of the mana stream. Ophiel alighted on a shoulder, though, making him feel secure enough, and the [Scry] eyes all around him recognized him, so he probably wouldn’t be kicked out for looking like a vagrant. Wherever he walked, people would already know he was coming.

He glanced to the side, and saw the t-station sitting on the beach in the distance. It was the only structure on the sandy land. Erick almost wanted to go inspect it, but his stomach growled at him. Seeing the t-station did knock loose a thought, though; how would he get back to this location? He instantly decided he would have to use the t-station to get back, until he learned [Gate]. [Teleport] was still blocked here, for sure, and he did not fancy a lightwalk all the way through the tunnels of the Underworld to get back here.

To test that theory, though, Erick manually cast [Teleport], doing a small test blip to try and move left one meter. He barely moved a centimeter. So, Spatial Magic was blocke—

This raised another question: how was Tasar doing her Spatial Magic while Spatial Magic was so restricted in the Underworld? Yet another question to ask her, he supposed.

But food came first.

Erick lightstepped into the tunnel near the beach. He flickered forward to the halfway point, then started walking normally to the checkpoint at the far end. Ten minutes later, he reached the miniature garrison that flanked both sides of the tunnel.

Six wrought, each of a different form, but most of them iron, bowed a little to Erick as he walked through. There were no protections on the tunnel. No physically blocking gate, or any spellwork, or any runework, either. All there was was a politely worded stone tablet on a plinth in the center of the path, asking that no one step this way unless invited or with due cause.

Further past the garrison space was the front end of the embassy. Seeing the space in front of him, Erick got the distinct impression that he had walked out of the Vatican, into Saint Peter’s Square; the giant empty space that sat before him seemed a massive, holy structure similar to the one back on Earth. And yet, Erick looked up, and up, and up, and was reminded of what ‘massive’ actually looked like. The embassy’s ‘front lawn’ was three stone football fields next to each other, but the embassy itself looked like a thousand towers and keeps and bastions all done in white, all stuck together in some arcane mess of a well-laid structure.

The ‘embassy square’, or whatever it was called, was comparatively tiny, but well guarded. The path between the front gate which led to the Underworld roads, and the front door of the embassy, was well filled with people, but not a single one of them veered from that path to head to Yggdrasil’s tunnel. No wonder this side tunnel to Yggdrasil didn’t need to be guarded that much; anyone veering off of the main path would immediately be suspicious and turned back just as fast.

Erick turned back to the wrought on duty, asking, “Anyone know if I need money to get food down at the town?”

An iron wrought in the shape of a stern incani woman said, “Money is required down here, same as anywhere. We have money we can give you if you have none. Or you can walk in the main building and get a small payment. Or you can accept any invitation for a meal from any of the people wishing to talk to you, and have them assume the cost of the meal. We also have human cooks inside the embassy which would be happy to feed you whatever you want for free, but eating in the towns will cost money.”

Erick listened, judged the iron woman as competent and reasonably nice, then he said, “Thank you. Very helpful. Are you six positioned here from now on?”

“For the most part.” The woman asked, “Is there anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable? Real furniture, perhaps?”

“No… No thank you. Not right now.” Erick paused, and asked, “What are your names?”

The iron incani said, “Sergeant Kapra, at your service, Archmage Flatt.” She gestured to her people, saying, “This is...”

Erick listened while she introduced her people, but mostly, he knew that Kapra was the one he would be dealing with when it came to moving in and out of the tunnel. Erick nodded to them all after their introductions, and said, “Nice to meet you all. I’m going to get some free money at the embassy, then.” But he would likely just use his Mage Bank account, if they accepted that.

The wrought bowed.

Erick turned and walked across the large, square kilometer of empty courtyard in front of the embassy, looking at people as they looked at him. The people were dressed rather nicely, either in actual clothes if they were fleshy people, or in similar brocade and tassels and layers done up in the metal of their wrought bodies. The people sometimes gave courtly bows, or nodded, as Erick and Ophiel’s presence interrupted their discussions. Erick nodded back, but he had a destination, and he went there.

The entrance to the embassy was as grand as anything Erick had ever seen before, and a part of him truly wished to enjoy the architecture and the opulence and the experience of it all, but he was wrung out, and he was hungry. And he did want a real bed, now that he thought about it; he might need to take up Sergeant Kapra on her offer.

Anyways.

The floor was a checkerboard of cut gold-colored crystal and white marble, while white pillars held up a vaulted ceiling festooned with artistically arranged drips of even more gold-colored crystal. Everything was bright and shining. People were everywhere, dressed up in nice outfits as they sat around in the public space and discussed business like this was a hotel and they were all guests of the state. Perhaps that analogy was more true than Erick had first suspected, but he didn’t know; not yet.

Five meter tall paintings on the walls. Jewelry on everyone. 

People slowly realizing Erick was here.

Eyes rapidly moved through the room as conversations around tea tables died.

A guard looked like he wanted to say something to Erick about Ophiel, hovering around him like tiny parakeets, or about all of Erick’s active spellwork. Almost no one around here had active spellwork. Erick was almost mad for at least two different reasons. They were in the Underworld, and death was everywhere! How could anyone walk around without all their spells active? How could that guard think it was okay to ask Erick to drop his?

But the guard who had been approaching him suddenly stopped and glanced to a superior. The superior nodded. The guard backed off, back to the edge of the room.

Erick realized his own worries manifesting in his thoughts so he discarded them as he walked up to the front desk, to a male copper wrought who suddenly looked extremely nervous, but who was also able to discard his emotions in order to get the job done.

Erick calmly spoke to the calm man at the front desk, saying, “I understand there’s places to eat around here. I need some directions. Good food and no fuss. I have no money on me. Do you accept Mage Bank?”

“All places here will accept Mage Bank.” The man asked, “Do you have a particular type of food you desire?”

“Basic food and a lot of it. Meat, cheese, and bread. Beer, too.”

The man brought out a sheet of paper from behind the counter and laid it on the desk, drawing a map of wardlight upon it as he said, “Three locations might be of use to you. There’s The Cookhouse, down the main hallway, over there, located at the world diner’s market, along with twenty other options. In town, we have the Underground Eatery, which serves many of the people who live and work here at the embassy. As of an hour ago when last I checked, you also have over four hundred standing offers for a business meeting of any type you wish, and in such a case the other group will gladly pay for your meal if that is how you wish to meet them.”

Erick took the map, saying, “World diner’s market it is. Thank you very much.”

The man stood and suddenly bowed, saying, “Thank you for taking back Ar’Kendrithyst and for stopping the yearly surge. Tens of thousands are still alive because of you. Hundreds of cities and villages out in the Dark that don’t need to be rebuilt. Thank you.”

At that, the five other front desk workers stood up in unison and bowed. Like a wave passing outward, people stood if they were sitting, or stopped talking with their neighbors, or they stepped away from their tea shop counters, and they bowed, too.

Erick turned, regarded them all for a brief moment, then said, “Ah. You’re welcome.”

And then he started walking away, down the main hallway. Some people tried to talk to him. Erick just shook his head and they stopped trying to talk to him. He had to do that a few times, but that was fine. The floor was cold under his feet as he walked through the place, eyes rapidly turning away from whatever they were doing to instead look his way.

The world diner’s market was a food court, but also twenty restaurants in a mall-like two-story setup. Erick spotted The Cookhouse sitting on the second floor near the middle of the place.

By the time he made it to his destination they already knew he was coming.

The owner, who was a large orcol man with a great big beard, promptly set Erick up in a nice booth in the back of the place, and then started parading food his way, in accordance with Erick’s desires for meats, cheese, and breads. A surprise came out, too, in the form of fries made from the potatoes Erick had created. He bit into those fried sticks of golden goodness and felt temporary bliss, while the owner explained how the fries were a hit because they resembled the spires of Stratagold from the right angles.

Erick drank his beer and smiled a bit, as he ate his fill and was mostly left alone, except when the owner wished to ask his opinion of the ways in which they had cooked the food Erick had created. That started off a whole conversation about food that Erick found a wonderful diversion, and the owner of the place, Rodolok, was thrilled to be a part of. Erick ate quite a lot more than he expected to eat, but it was wonderful, he was starving, and Rodolok was happy to supply.

When the meal was over, Rodolok would not accept Erick’s money, and told him to come back whenever he wished.

As Erick retraced his steps back toward Yggdrasil, he shook his head at whoever tried to talk to him, and mostly, people listened, opting to remain away instead of potentially inciting anger, or any other unwanted emotion. Soon, Erick was back at the tunnel leading to Yggdrasil’s cavern, back at the garrison with the wrought guarding the place.

Erick said, “Sergeant Kapra. I believe I will take you up on that offer of a nice bed. Please have it delivered to the beach at your earliest convenience.”

Kapra bowed, saying, “It will be done.”

And then Erick lightstepped down the tunnel, back to Yggdrasil where he summoned his bed upon Yggdrasil’s branches and instantly crashed—

He switched to his Other Self, [Renew]ed his rad, as well as cycled for a minute, then he switched back, and then he crashed. With a full stomach Erick slept much better this time.

- - - -

Leaves rustled. Birds chirped. Wings flapped. Eyes saw.

And Erick slept.

- - - -

As Erick opened his mana sense and then his eyes, he realized that he felt good and that he was safe, so he paused, and woke up more slowly. Yggdrasil and Ophiel had maintained the various spellworks Erick had asked of them. [Prismatic Ward] held all around him, serving as his last lines of defense, but his main protections were the [Sealed Privacy Ward]s scattered throughout the big guy’s boughs.

And his bed didn’t pop in the night! Or… Day? The sun never set down here and Erick hadn’t actually checked on the time through Yggdrasil’s other bodies. His circadian rhythms were all messed u—

… Did he have circadian rhythms anymore? He was ‘protean’ now; not human. Humans had rhythms. What did proteans have?

Eh. Whatever!

Erick reached up to the headboard of his bed and patted the Ophiel sitting there. Ophiel cooed. Erick dropped his hand back to his side, checked on his surroundings for any possible [Scry] problems, and finding none, he switched over to his Other Self and had a breakfast of [Renew] and cycling as he thought about food again. What would he have today? Maybe a salad would be good. He hadn’t had one of those in a while. Did he have to take care of his body like a human would? Or was he purely a monster—

Wait a second.

Erick had a few discordant thoughts, all in a row.

Monsters were naturally stronger than people in ways that were incomparable to simply having excess Stats. People could even gain extra Strength all the way up to 20, if they ate a diet of well-prepared monster meat for a few years. In addition to that, Rozeta had even said that once Erick dropped out of the Script, he would need to fortify himself with mana to achieve the same level of increased physical and mana power that Stats normally gave people.

Monsters didn’t get Stats, did they? Monstrous humans might gain Stats, but normally… Monsters did not have Stats. Shades did not have Stats either, and they were fully cut from the Script. So how did any of those beings gain power? The answer was mana, of course. Rozeta had already said that. Erick would need to fortify himself to gain more power once he was cut from the Script.

Would his [Renew] and cycling begin to fortify his Other Self? Or maybe it didn’t work that way? Maybe it would work that way when he was fully cut off.

… This idea that ‘monsters did not have Stats’ was profoundly new to Erick. It was not something that he had ever heard before. He, and everyone he had ever known to speak on the subject assumed that monsters got Stats. They had levels, for sure, so why not Stats too?

Or were ‘levels’ and ‘experience’ something that mana naturally did, that the Script had simply quantified for everyone on the Script? Enabling power for all? 

Was there a way to prove this theory?

Oceanside would have that answer.

But also:

When Erick met his Other Self in that mirrored place, his Other Self had been rather physically weak. Perhaps… An improper ascension to Wizard? Or was his Other Self focused more on mana than on the physical? Probably both, if Erick were to guess. One thing was very true about his Other Self, though, and that was that his Other Self highly likely did not have the same learning opportunities as Erick, so maybe he didn’t know how to strengthen the body with mana? Maybe he didn’t know that he needed to?

… Erick didn’t know how to strengthen his body with mana either.

For not the first time, Erick lamented missing out on several days of learning with Rozeta.

Ah! Whatever!

What was done was done, and now it was time to get back to the grind. Erick shifted back to his Normal Self and got up for the day, or whatever time it was. And then, because he could, he went for another swim in the waters around Yggdrasil. He even conjured himself a pool raft and laid upon it, but the small waves of the lake tossed him out twice, so he moved to one of Yggdrasil’s roots that arced from the lake and laid down under a conjured sunlightward. Warming himself under his brighter light, and atop a nice towel, Erick started talking to Yggdrasil, asking him how he was doing. He spent a while talking to Yggdrasil while he sat there in the conjured sunlight, warming himself and flipping over occasionally. After an hour or two of that he went back into the water, then got out and laid under the false sunlight again to dry off.

Erick rapidly reached the point where he felt bad about not working, and no amount of relaxation was going to fix that, so Erick went and got dressed then he bid Yggdrasil farewell. A lightstep took him back to the beach, to the tunnel to the embassy—

He stopped. He turned. He went to the Teleport Station.

He spent three hours prodding that thing with various bits of light and mana, learning how it worked, without actually learning anything at all. He got a good guess, though, what with all the ‘probability magnifying’ runes and ‘shadow banishing’ and ‘form solidification’ and other such tangled runework. Whatever this thing was, it certainly was not [Gate]. There were no ‘space joining’ runes, for one, nor were there any magics in this space that were not explained by the runework inside.

Erick knew he was missing some of the workings, though, for there was certainly some sort of obfuscation runework strung throughout the whole t-station, preventing easy understanding. But he was pretty sure this was not a Gate Network, at all.

There was some sort of solid state rune stacking system in the gold pillar in the center of the gold platform, though, which held [Teleport] runes alongside pretty much a whole alphabet of runic letters. Erick was pretty sure that if he knew a destination, he could channel [Teleport] into a specific combination of runes, and blip directly to the designated t-station.

But he knew no other t-stations, and he wasn’t even sure of this one. If he tried a station at random he would likely end up in a holding cell full of anti-magic spellwork, for some of these runes looked like they defaulted down certain pathways…

He wasn’t sure, though.

When Sitnakov told that garrison to ‘prime the t-station to target ygg’ he might have been lying, but also, Erick saw some runes which were pronounced ‘ygg’ in the system, and he saw those same runes replicated inside other parts of the platform...

He was pretty sure that if he had Ophiel stand on the platform and channel into those runes, he would blip in place, leaving and arriving at this very same t-station. So Erick stepped off of the t-station and had Ophiel test that theory. Ophiel blipped almost in place, reappearing a meter to his left.

So he had figured out that much, at least.

Figuring out one mystery was enough, for now. The demands of biology and the need to eat were all he could think of anymore, so Erick left the t-station behind for another day.

While he had been doing that, though, the soldiers at the garrison had brought him a bed, and set it at the end of the tunnel on the beach. It was a good bed. Erick checked it for bugs both magical and parasitical, moved it to Yggdrasil, copied it and destroyed the original, and then he went back toward town.

Erick complimented Sergeant Kapra’s choice on his way past the garrison. As he left, Kapra relaxed a fraction and turned to one of her people, a copper goblin, to tell him the good job he had done. The copper goblin was already getting pats on the backs from his fellow soldiers.

Erick smiled a bit as he walked back to the embassy with Ophiels trailing behind him and people stopping to stare.

Inside the embassy, Erick was exposed to a similar experience from yesterday, but this time he asked the guy at the front desk if he had any messages, or any necessary meetings demanded from Sitnakov, or Kromolok, or anyone else.

While other people stared at or whispered about Erick, the man behind the desk calmly said, “We have some messages for you.” And then he gestured to a man standing behind him. While that other man quickly walked down a short hallway, the guy at the desk said, “Messages began flooding in when you raised your Yggdrasil in the lake cavern so there is a bit of a pile, but some are higher priority than others.” He pulled out a small envelope of letters from behind the counter and handed them over, saying, “These are from the major forces of Stratagold, while the man I sent off should be back soon with—” Behind him, the gopher came back holding a rectangular wooden box about a meter long. The counter man handed the box over, saying, “There are a great many letters wishing for introductions. We’ve taken the liberty of verifying—” He glanced at the paper stapled to the front of the box, his eyes going a little wide as he said, “—1,289 diplomatic contacts that have asked us to ask you for introductions. That’s nearly a hundred more than it was an hour ago.”

Erick frowned a little, but he handed off the box and the envelope of ‘important letters’ to Ophiel, saying, “Thanks, I suppose.”

The man said, “If you wish for an office in the embassy one can be made available for you, as well as staff. You would be free to fill that office with your own staff whenever you wish, as most people do. Stratagold is committed to making this connection, Archmage Flatt. We’ve included a packet of paperwork detailing how to go about that process inside this box.”

“… Okay then.” Erick said, “Thanks for this.”

And then he walked down the main hallway, headed toward the world diner’s market in search of breakfast.

- - - -

While being stared at and almost approached by many different people, Erick grabbed pancakes and cactus syrup and a whole bunch of other breakfast foods. It wasn’t long till he was on his way back out of the food court, but he failed to escape fast enough.

One intrepid young man, despite his obvious fear response and his desire to be anywhere other than headed toward Erick, still went toward Erick, to stand in front of Erick and open his mouth to speak. Nothing came out. Erick saw raw need in the boy’s face, though. That’s probably what stopped Erick from simply walking around the boy as fast as he could, to get back to Yggdrasil.

The boy found his words, asking, “Are you going to set up archmage services like you did in NeELLa—” His voice cracked, loud and unkempt. “Ah-hum. Sorry.” The boy continued, “Uh. Like in Nelboor?”

Erick paused, and considered the boy a bit more.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Erick asked, “Do you have some absolute need?”

With utter conviction, the boy placed his hand on his chest, over a small pink-metal locket on a pink-metal chain around his neck, and said, “I want to find the people who killed my mother and your Imaging— I need your Ima… I want help finding my mother’s killer.”

Erick gave the boy a hard look over. 16, or 17. Incani. Well-to-do, with nice clothes and obviously good upbringing. He had a pair of minders hanging out five meters away, watching his interaction with Erick with interest. Erick decided to go for it.

“Where was your mother last seen?”

The boy’s eyes went wide as his words came easier, “She was killed here in the embassy so an Imaging done from anywhere outside the building should provide a solid clue. I already have so many clues but I just need utter proof to get further.”

The boy had almost everything he needed, then?

Erick said, “Come on then. Let’s do an Imaging.” And then he started walking around the kid, toward the front entrance.

The boy hopped to like a proper soldier and rapidly followed Erick, while his minders followed further behind. A few other nearby people decided to follow, too; they absolutely couldn’t miss whatever was about to happen.

In the main hallway, Erick said to the kid, “I’m not getting involved beyond this. Don’t expect much, either, for this place is likely [Ward]ed out the ass making Imaging tough.”

The boy rapidly nodded, agreeing with everything Erick said, mumbling, “The embassy is well guarded from casual Sight but I hope— I hope…” His voice trailed away.

Soon, they were outside the embassy, standing on the stone square outside. Without preamble, and with guards looking on from all sides, and looking both annoyed and resigned, Erick cast a [Cascade Imaging] into the air.

A fog appeared, five meters across, which would eventually become the 30-kilometer region that was the embassy. A star of light cascaded above, throwing out radio waves far and wide as it also carved into the mist. Soon, the many towers and keeps and courtyards of this land began to take shape out of the map.

Erick asked the boy a question he already knew the answer to, “Got some blood or tissue from your mother?”

The boy snapped out of his stupor and rapidly grabbed the necklace from beneath his embroidered tunic and jacket. He held out the pink-metal locket with its vial of blood inside to Erick, saying, “It’s a blood vial inside a hellite jacket. I’ve used it before to call her demon back to ask questions but she’s… She’s not doing well in Hell. She was murdered and it— It hurt her. A lot.”

Erick took the offered object. “How long ago was she murdered?”

“Seven days ago.”

Erick recast the Imaging with his new target in mind, then he handed back the vial, saying, “It takes a minute to populate, but— Ah. See there. Here we are in the center of the map. That blue dot is the vial in your hands. The rest should populate quickly enough. Don’t get your hopes up. This is the start of a proper investigation. Whatever you see here proves nothing.”

The boy gripped the vial in his hands, only half hearing Erick’s words. That was fine. Erick was mostly speaking toward the audience all around them, anyway.

People had gathered around, but now, as the spell fully got going, there was also a steady stream of onlookers coming out from the embassy, or walking in from outside just a bit faster, to see what was happening with the light hanging in the air of embassy square.

Some guards were already nearby, but none of them made to stop Erick. Soon enough, more wrought guards came by, with a few of them looking more ‘in charge’ than the rest. They didn’t look happy.

In an effort to stop whatever problems they had before they started, Erick gestured to the high ranking guards while they were already walking his way, saying, “Good! You’re here. This boy has apparently been trying to find his mother’s murderers. If this map shows anything at all, then you can help him sort out this mess through the proper channels. This is as far as I go.”

The boy’s minders instinctively stepped in front of the oncoming wrought, trying to block them from interfering, but only briefly, for the wrought were on the warpath and everyone soon recognized that. The boy briefly looked on in horror as the new guards approached, worried that he might not get his wish, that he might not find out what happened to his mother, but there was more than that to his stare at the guards. The head wrought in charge glared at the boy, and neither side seemed to appreciate the other. The boy had obviously tried some underhanded methods to uncover whatever clues he had uncovered; these two had clashed once already.

And then the wrought turned toward Erick, saying, “Thank you for helping him, but officially, please do not put up magics like—”

The crowd gasped.

Tiny blue dots began to appear all over the place as the map of the embassy began to truly appear. Almost all of the blue dots were clustered together, like showing a heat map of where a person usually was, with some places growing bluer by the second, and others staying only a bit blue.

And the boy went wild. Hands raised, he pointed and shouted, “It’s there! Contact in Duke Watahue’s offices!”

Erick saw where the boy pointed; a series of blue dots far away from the boy’s mother’s usual stomping grounds. A ripple of murmurs went through the gathered crowds and people started talking of murder rumors while the guards went on alert and the boy started demanding impossible things, like marching directly on the offender—

Erick spoke above them all, and especially above the boy, saying, “It’s only a map of where people have been, and people get around. This is only a start to any sort of investigation, but the spell will last a hundred minutes and it’s only 50% manifested, so not only will it get better, but it will last for a while. I also have no idea who the boy is, so verification that the blood in the vial is indeed his mother’s is but one thing that needs to be verified, too.” He said to the boy, “Do this correctly. Less vigilantism means you’ll make the guards more likely to work with you.” To the guards, he said, “Sorry to disrupt your days like this.”

The boy looked completely chastised as he nodded and started talking softer, and more coherent. The guards just frowned at everything, as guards usually did, and then they discounted Erick and started talking to the boy. It wasn’t five seconds later that the guards moved to guard the Imaging from onlookers and take the boy back inside, talking about how this was not how things were done. The boy took his chastisement with dignity, for he had already gotten almost all of what he wanted. Now, he just needed to close the trap on his mother’s murderer.

Erick was about 99.9% sure that the kid was on the level, and so, Erick wished him well as he walked away, back toward Yggdrasil, while Ophiels floated behind, carrying breakfast and letters of all kinds.

One good deed, done!

… And because of that one good deed, Erick expected to have at least a hundred more people asking him for something similar by this time tomorrow. That, or else a strongly-worded letter delivered by armored guards, asking him to keep his nose out of the governance of their land. The second was more likely to happen than the first, but that was fine.

- - - -

Erick sat upon conjured furniture on Yggdrasil’s branches, surrounded by a few conjured dividers to keep away the wind. His breakfast, and a few duplicates of the various foods, sat before him. He ate with utensils while he used his lightform to hover the various sealed envelopes in front of him, reading them without opening them, and sorting them into different piles. It was actually quite relaxing.

He had never gotten mail before, but he probably had a lot waiting for him back in Spur. Or maybe not? Spur had mail systems, of course, but the city wasn’t organized by streets with addresses. One was expected to come to the Wayfinder’s Guild and pick up their mail, which was tied to an account you had to open first. If you failed to get your mail it was incinerated after a while, but almost no one actually went and got their mail; Erick never had. If anyone needed to talk to him they showed up in Spur directly, and jumped through the Army and Silverite’s hoops to get to him.

But people down here at the embassy apparently had offices and staff and mail was delivered directly to those offices, or to other appropriate places which had to be set up beforehand. It was a lot more organized than Songli, for sure. In Songli, only the nobility had mailing systems. Down here, every single house had an address.

Erick didn’t have to wonder what his address was, though. It was printed on the front of every letter in a few different ways, for his address wasn’t exactly solid, yet. ‘Archmage Erick Flatt, Yggdrasil’, if the person knew their stuff. ‘Archmage Flatt, World Tree’, if the sender was less sure. ‘Archmage at Tree Lake’, if they were rather unsure and hopped that their mail would reach where it needed to reach. There were a few outliers beyond those, with ‘Savior of Light’ being written in nice calligraphy on a handful of letters, and ‘Gatemaster Flatt’, which he wasn’t sure he liked, but it sounded like a rap singer’s name, so Erick kinda liked it for that reason alone.

All of them had return addresses, too, with practically all of those addresses located within the embassy itself…

But in the envelope of special letters, the return addresses were all inside Stratagold.

Erick rapidly read through each one without opening any of them; a good mana sense and lightform was more than enough to see what they all had to say, and rather quickly, too. Almost entirely, they were requests to meet to talk of business opportunities of various sorts in the Underworld, with most people wishing to take such a meeting upon Yggdrasil’s branches. Only a few were politely-worded demands for lands or property in or around Candlepoint. Some were requests for the same, with enough politeness and brevity that Erick actually considered them, but Candlepoint wasn’t his to divvy up as he saw fit, and so those letters went in the round bin, too.

More than a few letters stood out from the rest. Of the random letters, Erick set a few aside for they were requests to kill some monsters. Almost entirely, they all went into the round bin.

Of the five special letters in the separate packet, all of them were from inside Stratagold, and all five were important. First was a letter from Archmage’s Rest, a consortium of archmages from the world over which traded magics for magics, who wished to induct Erick into their membership; Erick considered it. Then there was the letter from the Bright Palace which instructed Erick to speak with a certain office inside the embassy for transportation to Stratagold, whereupon he would take Bright Tea with the Royal Family and a few important nobles at his earliest convenience; Erick couldn’t ignore that one, so he would likely be getting that out of the way as soon as possible. A letter from Tasar instructed him how to further contact her at her offices in the embassy. A letter from the Holy Church of Rozeta requested his presence at an inquiry of his ordeal in the Core; yet another one he couldn’t ignore.

Then there was a letter from the Gemslicers.

The last one gave Erick pause for the Gemslicers were an old threat, warned about by Silverite. The Gemslicers made the blacklights —the ultraviolet light— that made the wrought fluoresce in purples and other bright neon colors. These lights were supposedly cast inside special places, reserved by royalty, to denote a royal status. Knowing what Erick now knew, Erick guessed that the fluorescence of wrought was probably a religious thing, or maybe a ‘return to how it should be’. Or at least it was that much for adamantium, the ‘royal caste’, for that darkest of metals used to be white.

The Gemslicers did a lot more than just make party lights, though. Erick had picked up that they were primarily healers of some sort, but he wasn’t too sure about that since the Gemslicers were also rather insular and hidden. And now, the Gemslicers wanted to speak to Erick of his light dungeon on the surface. Such a meeting did not bode well.

Erick frowned and set that letter aside. He didn’t want to deal with that today, or ever, really—

… He looked out across Yggdrasil, at the rainbow crown of [Kaleidoscopic Radiance] that ringed the big guy’s green canopy. That light supported the growth of Light Essence monsters. Eventually, because of that light, this large cavern might become a dungeon of a sort with light slimes in the waters, or something like that. This went against Erick’s contract not to make another light dungeon for another ten years…

Well! Whatever! Erick was already propping up Yggdrasils all over the world, and each spot was probably going to turn into a light essence factory eventually.

Erick finished up his breakfast, changed locations, changed into his Other Self to have a ‘second breakfast’ of [Renew] and mana cycling, switched back, and then had a brief swim and a [Cleanse] before getting ready to take some meetings.

He decided that Tasar would be first, then Bright Tea, then the Holy Church of Rozeta stuff. The archmage thing would likely happen with Tasar, while the Gemslicers would happen after all the rest if Erick felt like it.

He looked to the monster hunting letters and decided that he might help these people out with their monster problems after everything else, if only to get a good feeling for the layout of the Underworld. Apparently, the Underworld was broadly set up around the ‘Main Roads’, as they were called, which were well maintained outside of the wrought Geodes and various other large settlements here and there, but once you got away from those main places the Main Roads became more like ‘rarely traveled tunnels’. Monsters prowled everywhere down here, and there were many failed settlements out there in the deeper dark. Apparently, the Underworld shifted sometimes, too, causing roads to break and tunnel systems to alter. Erick still wasn’t quite sure how the Underworld managed to remain open enough for people to live down here without getting crushed, but ‘The Script Does It’ seemed like the most correct answer.

He still wasn’t sure why anyone lived underground, either, as opposed to on the Surface, where there was so much more space and life was quite easier. He’d ask around while he was down here, though, just to see what people said.

Erick thought back to his goals of leaving as soon as possible, and his new goals of helping some of the people in these letters. But… If he met with Tasar first… Meeting with Tasar would likely begin the whirlwind of moving on to Oceanside? So maybe he should meet with her last?

No. He’d just tell Tasar that he would solve some problems down here before moving on; she would understand. After all, his overarching goal was to leave allies in his wake, and he had a grand opportunity to leave behind a lot of allies near Stratagold. Possibly inside Stratagold, too.

Erick went for another swim and another round of [Renew] for his Other Self.

Afterward, he felt good enough to head to the embassy to find Tasar, which is exactly what he did.

- - - -

Sergeant Kapra called out to Erick as he walked past, “Sir!”

Erick stopped and turned to face the woman upon her battlements. “Yes?”

“There’s been a formal request for you not to interfere with the governance of this land. No more [Cascade Imaging], please.” Kapra instantly transitioned to a lighter query, asking, “Is there any other furniture you desire?”

Erick knew the first part was coming so he was glad to get it out of the way already. As for her question, Erick said, “Just some raw materials. No wood is necessary, but cottons and stuffings and spidersilk would be good so I can [Fabricate] some better clothes— Actually.” Erick asked, “Can you just direct me toward a seller? I’ll go buy it myself.”

Kapra pointed toward one of the roads in front of the embassy, said, “Down Silver Road, you’ll hit the Main Road after about fifteen kilometers. Just before that you’ll find Sewer’s Row; a side road. It’s among the most populous street of them all, until you get into Stratagold itself.” She offered, “Or, we could send a runner down to Sewer’s Row and do this for you.”

Erick didn’t feel like walking that far...

“You’ve convinced me that one of your guys would be better at this than I.” Erick began conjuring items that would break if they were poked too hard, saying, “I want stuff like this, in these quantities.” When he finished there wasn’t much; just a few large rolls of cotton and some hard-packed stuffing and other assorted fabrics, all undyed, or bleached white. Erick looked over everything once more, then looked up to Kapra. “That’s all.”

Kapra said, “Sir, yes, sir. It’ll be done within the day.” She offered, “Do you wish for an escort to keep people away from you? Wherever you go?”

“Nah. Not going into town yet.”

Erick left them to it.

- - - -

Tasar’s office was located up three flights of stairs, down a main hallway, and past some twists and some guard stations that were mostly for show, to deter casual people from walking too far into the protected places of the embassy. The guards let Erick pass, though, without mention. Some people even saluted him with a fist slammed against their own chests, which was kinda odd, since Erick wasn’t in their military. Perhaps their actions were simply them recognizing a fellow soldier against the Dark? Perhaps.

With his mana sense cast wide, Erick got a good look at a lot of offices and otherwise as he walked down those halls, because every single space here was obviously put together to produce certain opinions in any casual mana sensing viewer. Primarily, this was a working area with paper works and the people to match, which reminded Erick of practically any high rise corporate office space back on Earth, but here, everyone knew that everything was visible. There were no hidden compartments in any rooms. There were no paperworks of incriminating nature easily seen in the open. People worked on normal stuff, talking normally with each other, knowing that they were spied on all the time.

Some people, with solid walls between them and Erick, even waved at Erick as he walked past. Erick just nodded at those people.

Because of this openness, some of the office spaces nearer the hallways were opulent things, made to impress, without gold-plated facades and paintings and rich cushions on nice couches and chairs. Mostly though, there were people working on paperwork, everywhere. Erick was pretty sure that there were spaces for hidden meetings and hidden objects, and perhaps there was magic in every one of these offices that hid objects or people, and even hid itself from his mana sense. But he didn’t see any of that.

All he actually saw were people hard at work, and not just wrought, either. Only half of the people were wrought. The other half were of every other kind of people in the world. From what he saw, every single office here was connected to warehouses in Stratagold, or elsewhere on the Main Roads, or in other towns out there in the Underworld. The embassy was basically a very public, very large connecting place, without much magic to it at all. There was some magic, of course, in the form of a runic web that ran along the edges of every hallway’s ceilings.

The web here in the embassy was rather high magitech, to coin a phrase Jane had said one time. The web seemed to only hold ‘light’ ‘anti-shadow’ and ‘anti-stoneshape’ runes, but it was much more complicated than that, for it had the same swirling, curling pattern to its runes that Erick had seen on the t-station. It was obfuscation runework, for sure.

The web seemed extremely vulnerable, though, being right up there, in the open, inside every hallway. Erick hadn’t noticed a single connecting node like they had in enduring Forge, to break the web into discrete chunks, to make tampering with it much harder. There had to be some sort of defensive system on it, though, right? Right.

Erick reached Tasar’s office, deep inside one of the more opulent parts of the embassy. The door opened at his approach, revealing a human-shaped green wrought on the other side, looking similar to Tasar, but different.

The woman said, “Greetings, Archmage Flatt. We were told to expect you, and so we are glad to receive you.” She stepped back from the door, ever the professional, saying, “Please come in.”

Erick walked inside, while Ophiel and Yggdrasil [Scry] eye followed. “Hello.”

He glanced around the room and saw yet another professional space, but of a nicer make than some of the other rooms, though the differences were personal and therefore superficial. The furniture was of thick, standard white wood with nice cushions, while the walls held maps and paintings of various make, all which served to highlight who this room belonged to, and how the occupant of this room was connected to other people. It was a style Erick had seen repeated here and there inside the rest of the embassy. He thought it was kinda nice for guests to know who they were dealing with, and how they might be connected to other people in the embassy.

Everyone seemed to have accreditations and paintings unique to them in their offices, and Tasar was no different. There was the obvious ‘diploma’ from Archmage’s Rest, full of scrollwork and wax badges and other signifiers of Tasar’s talents. Another diploma of a simpler make came from Oceanside, alongside a painting of Tasar standing with the Headmaster, Kirginatharp. Of the rest of the paintings, Tasar was easy to pick out, for she was usually the only adamantium black wrought in attendance.

There was Tasar standing with various other people who might have been mages, according to the staffs in hands and [Familiar]s on shoulders. One painting had Tasar gathered with other professional mages of all types, ringing a t-station. Had she been on the team to invent that? She probably was, considering her original Class as a Spatial Mage.

One painting held other black wroughts, but also the green woman, who looked exactly like the green woman who had welcomed Erick into this space. The woman stood next to a black human man, while beside them stood black-green Tasar and what looked to be two brothers of the same coloring as Tasar; black-green.

Erick glanced over all of that in a flickering second, then turned to the green woman, asking, “You must be Tasar’s mother?”

The woman bowed with just her head, then said, “I am. Tasar is out at the moment, but I have informed her of your coming as soon as the front desk informed me. Would you care for tea while you wait?”

… The woman seemed rather damned nervous, for whatever reason.

Erick tried to put her at ease, saying, “I would love some tea while I wait. Thank you for the offer, Missus…?”

“Otaliya.” Otaliya stiffly, yet adroitly, gestured to a table near some nice chairs. A steaming tea pot rested there beside cups with sugars and honey. She moved to the table and sat down, saying, “Widow, not missus, but it happened centuries ago, Archmage Flatt.”

Erick joined her at her table, saying, “Just Otaliya, then. Nice to meet you—” Back in the hallway, Ophiel mentally poked at Erick. Erick glanced through Ophiel’s eyes to see Tasar walking this way. “It appears the tea will have to wait. Tasar is on her way.”

“Tasar has always been rather prompt when it comes to certain magics, and [Gate] has fascinated her like no other ever could.” Otaliya had been about to pour Erick tea, but she set the pot back down. “She’ll likely wish to move on directly to various matters of magic, too, unless you have other plans?”

Erick said, “I would prefer to move on quickly from this land. Everyone has been rather nice to me except for when we were outside of everyone else’s sights, or when I was disrupting their authority, and I would like to remove myself from here as soon as possible.”

Otaliya went still, her eyes going wide, and then her mouth broke into a grin. She gave a tiny, rapid-fire chuckle, putting her hand over her mouth as she did so in some sort of polite, instinctual reaction. “You’ve described the lives of many people with that statement, Archmage.”

Erick had to grin at that, saying, “I suppose I have.”

And he supposed that Otaliya would know the feeling, too. Erick’s mana sense went rather far, so he saw Tasar’s rooms beyond this front room. Back in the back of this set of offices there was a living space, but only one. The paintings in that room held images of Tasar and two other green-black children, as well as a nicer painting of Otaliya and her former husband. Those clues, along with the other items in that room, all but confirmed that space as an apartment for Otaliya; she probably lived here, in the same manner that some other people also lived in their embassy rooms. At least there was a good five meters of stone between each floor, so her neighbors weren’t too close; beyond the mana sensing range of most people, anyway.

In a controlled, but excited manner, Tasar burst into the room. She turned her eyes toward Erick, though she had spotted him long before now, for sure, and said, “Welcome, Erick.” She turned to her mother, saying, “Thank you, mother.” She turned back to Erick. “What would you like to do first? Or perhaps a place to see? Anything you want to do, or place you want to go, let’s do it.”

Erick stood and Otaliya stood with him, as Erick said to Tasar, “I would speak of the t-station by Yggdrasil and whatever other [Gate] related materials you might have gathered over the centuries. Afterward, I expect to need to visit the people at Archmage’s Rest since I got a letter from them requesting as much, followed by Bright Tea at the White Palace, and then some Church of Rozeta stuff. From there, I have a few more things I might wish to do, but those can wait.”

Otaliya breathed out a little, the weight of Erick’s itinerary easy to see in her reaction.

Tasar paused, before saying, “We’re moving fast, then.”

“Yes, and preferably before I can get too bogged down with anything too serious down here. I’ll need to see the Gemslicers at some point in time, too.” Erick said, “I know I angered quite a few of your people with my journey to the Core, and probably a lot more besides, but I suspect that the Gemslicers are the only ones I might have truly pissed off.” He shrugged. “But then again, I suspect they’re the ones who stole my [Luminous Beam], so if they’re the least bit mad at me, then we’re going to have problems.”

Both Otaliya and Tasar went still when Erick mentioned ‘Gemslicers’.

Otaliya who spoke first, her voice full of barely hidden interest, “Why are you involved with them?”

Tasar withheld judgment and her voice as she waited for Erick’s answer.

Erick said, “I’ll show you.”

Erick held up a hand and conjured a blacklight; a sphere of wardlight shifted to invisible ultraviolet. The sphere of nothing radiated into the room and struck both Tasar and Otaliya with its unseen power, causing both wrought to light up with a skin-deep brilliance. Tasar’s black-green skin lit up with neon purple and stripes of brilliant yellow, while Otaliya turned fully yellow, her copper green body becoming a facsimile of the sun.

“Ah.” Tasar held up her left arm, judging her new glow as she quickly turned her hand over a few times, saying, “That would do it.”

Otaliya put a hand to her mouth as she started giggling again, before agreeing with her daughter, “That would do it.” She dropped her hand, but watched her bright yellowness for a moment before asking, “Do you know of the Gemslicers, Archmage?”

“Healers of some sort, but not much beyond that. If you know of them then I’d be happy to hear what you have to say.”

Otaliya spoke over her daughter’s barely-there call to desist, saying, “The Gemslicers are an insular family of steels who have done almost all the gem and metalwork and private healing for the Royal Family for the last thousand years. They’re highly placed due to the unique light magics they control, and never show others. Occasionally, they track down unique light magics sprouting up in the mortal world for a variety of reasons. They’ve been trying to solve the Black Curse upon adamantium and the rest of us for longer than most of us have been alive.” She glanced at her bright yellow fingers and hands, then looked to Erick, saying, “This is one of the ways they’ve temporarily and superficially gotten around the Curse, showing the Light inside all of us.” And then she stared at Erick, her gaze holding an uncomfortable weight. “I usually don’t put much stock in fringe prophecies, but I dare say you are the true Savior of Light.”

Erick stood still for a moment, then said, “I’ve heard the term before, but I don’t believe in prophecy.”

“One mustn’t believe everything one hears; this is true. But enough prognosticators over the very many years of Veird’s existence have tried to prophesize the end of the Dark, and the Return of the Light, and they’ve all agreed upon the title of ‘Savior of Light’ as the prophesied one that would come and fix everything. This title has, of course, been attributed to many people before now.” Otaliya said, “You’re the first one for whom I believe that title might be true.”

“I don’t believe in prophecy.” Erick said, “It’s too easy to break.”

Tasar looked at her mother, saying, “And all prognostication fails around Erick.”

“Even more reason that it might be true!” Otaliya said, openly and honestly, almost pleading with her daughter but erring on the side of propriety. She felt a lot more secure around Erick for some reason; possibly for a lot of smaller reasons, all adding up together. She obviously felt strongly about this prophecy, for sure. She seemed to stare into Erick’s very soul, and maybe she was, as she said, “Death happens to those who cannot or have not learned to get out of the way fast enough, and the young rarely get the opportunity to survive their fast encounter with True Darkfire, but you, Archmage Flatt, have survived True Darkfire time and time again. My daughter told me how you scared off the Evil One inside the Core Tunnels.” She breathed out, smiling, her expression full of light. She bowed to Erick, saying, “May my daughter serve you true, Savior of Light.”

Erick didn’t know what to say—

Tasar did. “Erick. Can I meet you by the t-station near Yggdrasil in an hour? I will bring some books at that time, but first I need to speak to my mother.”

Erick nodded, saying, “Of course. See you soon.”

And then he left.

He moved faster than he needed to, but he kinda needed to get out of there, and quickly. He dodged a few more people on his way out of the building, making his way back to Yggdrasil as soon as he could. Sergeant Kapra managed to catch him before he stepped into the tunnel, though. She informed him that his materials would be arriving soon; her people were still out there purchasing them. Erick told her thanks, then went back to Yggdrasil.

- - - -

He decided he needed to do something absolutely different for a little while, so he set out to fully explore Yggdrasil’s cavern. First, though, he set up a [Cascade Imaging] searching for ‘people’.

Thirty eight targets; that’s how many he found, and most of them out there on their own. People hid out in the ceiling, or by the falls, or underwater. None of them were near or on Yggdrasil, though.

A quick sigh and brightly appearing before those [Invisible], or [Privacy Ward]ed, or [Greater Water Body] people was more than enough to scare them off. Every single one spouted apologies the whole time they ran away, too.

- - - -

Erick sat on a conjured chair next to the t-station, studying the gold disk and its obelisk a bit more as he waited for Tasar to show up. He didn’t have to wait long. The black-green wrought appeared on the t-station with a casual blip of green-black light. In one hand she carried her usual staff, while her other remained free. Erick expected her to be carrying books, but apparently she had people for that. Three other people, to be precise.

One was clearly young, but with an orcol shape to his brightly burnished copper body. He held a large box of books which he set on the ground nearby. Another was an old-human-shaped man of iron wearing a robe and looking delighted to see Erick. The third was a brilliantly silver incani man with his metallic flesh in the shape of princely clothes, and with a silver star upon his chest that matched Erick’s for form, but not for function. The silver star was likely a Silver Star, too, for it wasn’t made of the man’s flesh, but was very much a separate object held in place that glowed with the faintest whisper of divine fire.

Erick stood up, saying, “Hello. I expected you to come through the tunnel?”

“Other people rapidly got involved when you showed my mother that glowlight.” Tasar gestured toward the silver man, saying, “Archmage Flatt, meet Awir, and—” indicating the iron guy, “—Riivo. Riivo is from Archmage’s Rest, while Awir is from Gemslicers.”

No one made any indication to shake hands, but while Riivo was obviously happy to be there with bright smiles and a hop in his step, the ‘old man’ rapidly realized that he was the only one. Erick focused on Awir. Awir had a small frown. Erick had a frown, too, and he wasn’t sure when he had gotten that.

Awir asked, “How did you learn of light?”

Erick narrowed his eyes. “How did you manage to steal my [Luminous Beam]?”

Awir strongly said, “I’ve been trying to make that spell for 350 years, in at least 350 different ways, and then you go and make it at Basic Tier! And then you lock it behind Particle Mage.” Most of his apparent anger vanished. “I suppose I was mad at you, but I can’t really be mad at the Savior of Light, even if I don’t exactly believe that yet. I expected one of our people to take that title, eventually.” With heavy sarcasm, he added, “Have you figured out how to reverse the Black Curse, too? Is that on your to-do list of this Worldly Path?”

Old man Riivo had seen that there was some sort of discomfort between Awir and Erick and moved to stand to the side, next to Tasar. This proved to be a good idea, as the anger between Awir and Erick rapidly multiplied after introductions. The copper orcol who had come with them had seen something was going down above his pay grade, and rapidly whispered some questions to Tasar, who nodded at him and gestured for him to go away. One second later the copper orcol had blipped away on the t-station, headed back to wherever it was he had come from.

Erick responded to Awir’s rhetorical question with, “If you have any clues about that then put them forth, and let me add that Quest to my Worldly Path.”

“Hmm.” Awir said, “Tasar tells us that you will be looking for a Wizard eventually. So there you go. That’s how you reverse the Black Curse.”

Erick leveled a dissatisfied glare, saying, “That’s not helpful.”

“Why should I—!” Awir paused. He dropped most of his anger, and then he said, “I wasn’t expecting to have this conversation so soon, and I am still rather furious with you for inventing my spell out from under me. It was a mistake to come along with Tasar at this juncture. I am a Healer, and a Pacifist, and my anger has gotten the better of me. I would speak with you at another time about Wizards and the pursuit of a cure for the Black Curse, if you are willing.”

Erick decided to pack away his anger, too. He said, “Sure. We can talk another time. I am interested in cures to Curses that involve Wizardry, and it sounds like you’ve had some experience with that.”

“Both too much experience, and not enough. I can’t tell much openly, but I can say that dragons are your main competitors for finding and securing Wizards, for as soon as you have heard of some untouched Wizard, know that the Wizard has likely been spotted by dragons long before you came along.” Awir said, “The dragon is waiting for you to weaken the Wizard before they [Blink] in and take your prize from you.”

“I have gotten that impression; yes.” Erick said, “Nice to meet you, Awir.”

“And you as well, Erick.”

Awir bowed his head, then walked away. He touched the obelisk of the t-station and was gone in a blip of colorless light.

Erick turned to Tasar and Riivo, asking, “So the Gemslicers are healers? Not secret assassins?”

“Uh,” Tasar said, frowning a bit. “I did not expect that from Awir, either.”

“I expected something more joyous, too!” Riivo said, “Your Particle Magic allowed Tasar here to invent [Condense Oxygen], which has revolutionized the treatment of wrought rot! That single spell is saving hundreds of lives each month, and allowing thousands of long-term sufferers to return to society, to let them lead happy, fulfilling lives. I expected Awir to be overjoyed! But he’s just jealous!” Riivo spoke conspiratorially, “He was the first to switch Class to Particle Mage, and now I know why. You should know that it was him who was able to supply your [Luminous Beam] to the White Guardian Collective. The Gemslicers pulled a great boon for that supplied magic! He should have been happy to meet you. Bah.” He said, “I understand you met the guardians when you broke into the Core?”

Erick looked away from the t-station, to Riivo, saying, “I wondered who gave that spell to the guardians. That explains some of the questions that have been building up since I came down here.”

Happily, Riivo said, “Let me answer more! And then perhaps you can answer some of ours? That’s how we like to do it at Archmage’s Rest.”

“Most of the books we brought are from there,” Tasar said, “They are a lot of my own additions to the collective, though.”

“Oh yes!” Riivo said, “Tasar here is one of our good members. It was through us that we brokered the deals for [Condense Oxygen] to make it to the Gemslicers, to aid in the healing of Wrought Rot. We formed the backdrop upon which the creation of the t-station occurred, so many centuries ago, as well as many other inventions which you might be aware of. Runic webs? We started those. Anything you want to give us will be given back to you in kind. That’s how it works in Archmage’s Rest.” He spoke a bit more seriously, “But, of course, there are some waiting periods and trials of honor and such, but I have no doubt you will clear those trials, for sure.”

Erick looked at Riivo and Tasar in a new light. He said, “Okay. I can get behind that. But I’m not sharing any of my own stuff right now until I know who you actually are. I’ve never heard of you and it sounds like I should have.”

“The Arcanaeum Consortium is on the Surface, but down here, it’s Archmage’s Rest! We’re also mostly wrought, so that’s another thing, but—” Riivo said, “You’ve done more than enough to accrue quite a lot of goodwill already, except we don’t approve of entering the Core without permission. Our vote for your reentering the Core will remain a ‘no’, unless there is some highly surprising need for you to return.” He clapped his iron hands, saying, “But enough of dreary topics! Let’s talk about Spatial Magics!”

Erick wasn’t sure how he felt about Riivo.

A large part of him felt… Threatened?

But the old iron man seemed rather kind. Honestly kind, too.

Erick moved on, for now, saying, “Let’s talk Spatial Magics. With a focus on runes?”

“All the best magic is rune-based!” Riivo said, laughing a little.

Tasar gave a tiny smile, saying, “Before we get right to it, I must say that Riivo was my sponsor and connection to Archmage’s Rest back when I first joined. He is most people’s first connection, and I hope that this meeting is but one of many more positive interactions to come in the following months and years.”

“Oh, yes yes. Connections connections. As important in magic as they are in life!” Riivo moved to the box of books, opening the lid and grabbing the first one on top, saying, “Let’s focus on the magic side of things, for now. That’s what we’re all truly here for, are we not?”

Erick felt himself beginning to smile, too, as he said, “Sounds good to me.”

“Splendid!” Riivo began conjuring book pedestals upon the sands and set the first book in one, while moving around, conjuring other temporary structures, saying, “Now the next spell to put up is a bit larger, and will prevent [Scry] eyes from appearing around us, so it you don’t mind—” He cast a large spell that washed outward, breaking against Erick’s sunform but reforming as it passed, to settle outward, to provide a Privacy. Erick protected Yggdrasil’s [Scry] eye and his Ophiel protected themselves, but every other small spying [Scry] eye within a kilometer was gone. “Ah! There we go. These are some secrets which I doubt many outsiders would understand, but precautions must be taken. Magic is as dangerous as it is wonderful, after all.”

It took a lot of self control for Erick to softly say, “Fair enough.”

His paranoia had him feeling something awful, but he went along with it, for now.

Soon, the lesson on t-stations began in earnest.

In a similar way as when Erick met with Tasar and the other archmages at Oceanside, when he gave his speech about particles and then gave examples, Erick was now on the receiving end of such an education. Riivo happily opened up books and conjured blackboards full of information as he spoke the cheerful manner of a middle school teacher who loved his job and his students. Almost nothing about the man set off Erick's warning bells, which was likely what set Erick off more than anything else; the absence of any threat at all was a threat by itself, for there was no way that this guy was this self-controlled without magical enhancements. And invisible enhancements, too; Erick’s various Sights told him nothing more than what his eyes already were.

Now, Tasar was a normal person. She gave indications of worry and hope and joy and even twinges of fear now and again, when Erick spoke of extrapolations of runework. She was scared of him, slightly. Which was probably fine, because Erick was scared of her, too.

But Riivo was something else entirely.

Either he was oblivious to everything, which was simply not possible.

Or… Erick wasn’t sure what, exactly, lay on the other side of that thought.

Oh, sure, Riivo spoke of how the goals of Archmage’s Rest were to foster knowledge and proper magics, but Erick couldn’t help but wonder if these were the people actually behind the prevention of runework and gridwork flowing out to the rest of the world. How much was the Headmaster to blame for that failure of education? Was Riivo the actual problem? Or Archmage’s Rest as a whole?

Over a few hours, Erick did learn how the t-stations were made, though.

Erick stepped back and gazed across twenty four blackboards, a dozen books opened to important passages, and to several lightwards cast into the air. He summed it all up, “The network’s dual functions are to extend the range of [Teleport] through the bolstering of possibility, and to pull back the Dark in both locations.” He turned toward the t-station, adding, “About 70% of every runic inscription on the t-station is used for security and targeting. 20% is used to pull back the Dark. A t-station on the Surface would require…” He did some calculations. “Only some paired obelisks. Or maybe even just a gauntlet or necklace and some scattered targets. Such a system could easily become corrupted, though.”

Riivo brightened, saying, “We’ve tried that before! Necklaces and Dark-scouring targeting pads. Eventually you can get a single necklace that allows the wearer to [Teleport] literally anywhere they want; don’t even need a destination obelisk. This type of runework proliferated to the Surface and people murdered each other from other sides of the globe. Millions dead in the following decade. Repairing that damage wasn’t exactly a Forgotten Campaign, but it was rather close. Led to the current environment of magical items being powered by rad dust and wearing out after a while and needing to be repurchased. All in all, it was the worse outcome, but it needed to be done. Runework is dangerous when in the wrong hands.”

Erick stood stunned, eyes wide, jaw a little slack.

Yet another question about the state of the world, answered, just like that. ‘Why magic items with rad dust that break?’ ‘Why not runework on the Surface?’ ‘Because people died.’ It was the simplest answer and one Erick saw coming, and yet…

He remained stunned.

“Oh yes.” Riivo saw Erick’s reaction, and said, “Yes, yes. You understand. I’m glad to see we don’t have to have the discussion about spreading runes.” He clapped once and smiled. “I’d much prefer you making a [Gate] network with Yggdrasil, than passing around unchecked runework.”

Tasar looked on, gauging Erick with her eyes, looking steadily more relieved as Erick became steadily more horrified. Tasar said, “Most of what a t-station is, is obfuscation of the base runic structure, expanding the necessary structure by a thousandfold. But we’ve also prevented most people from ever understanding what we’ve done, and that is for the best. Runes can be used properly, but it's dangerous to let them out of your sight.”

“Oh yes.” Riivo said, “Mana will respond very well if you give it generalized instructions. There’s no trouble at all to make magic, which is why the Script imposes so many restrictions on it, from the tier-delay to try again when you fail spell creation, to the mana limits per tier, to many other assorted limitations. But it also lifts up the common denominator, allowing people to fight back against the ever increasing dangers of monsters, or to live on their own if they wish for such a thing. It allows runes to work too well, in my opinion. But we must take responsibility for our own lives; can’t expect any gods to make it easy for us, no. They’re here to ensure we have some place to live, not to hold our hands in our lives.”

Erick stepped back, many of his plans unraveling in that moment. He had wanted to bring—

He realized something important. He said, “A properly defended [Gate] network is the only solution to this problem.”

Riivo nodded. “This is correct.”

“Is this why people live here in the Underworld?” Erick asked, “Because of the prevalence of [Teleport]? I’ve been trying to wrap my head around the fact that people live down here in the Dark and I just can’t. There’s just… so much room on the Surface... But the Surface is deadly in different ways?”

“No.” Tasar said, “It’s because of the Shades. The Dark is one thing, but the monsters he makes are another.”

“I suspect a mass exodus from the Underworld now that the Shades are mostly gone.” Riivo said, “But as for why we have a lot of people down here, it’s because the Geodes, while not open to outsiders, do have a lot of support structures for people living nearby. Some of the safest lands in the world, right here!”

Tasar said, “I suspect most people will stay down here. Maybe a few million might head to the Surface but not much more than that. Where would they even go, though?”

Erick said, “I had hoped to spread runework and gridwork and… A lot. I had hoped to do a lot, but at the very least to reclaim the Crystal Forest from the mimics. I wanted to do something like they have in Enduring Forge.”

Tasar’s face scrunched at the mention of Enduring Forge.

Riivo had a smaller, but still visible reaction of distaste. Then he rid himself of that and said, “I’m sure we can figure out something to stop bad actors and to support life up there, like we support life down here. Won’t be through runework, though; not until we can ensure that proper obfuscations occur. But on the plus side! We can very easily help you to make some anchors for your [Spatial Denial] spells, and others, to prevent widespread Shapings or Spatial Magics from upending your lands.”

Erick said, “I was hoping for all of my Unmoving spells to be strung into— Well.” Erick laid it out there, “With [Renew] in a runic web I could have a city support its own spellwork, and with just [Renew], this would be fine, right?” Tasar gave a small frown, while Riivo’s excitement dropped, and Erick continued, “Much more simple than stringing a thousand spells through a runic web. Much less open to bad actors? That should be fine, right?”

Tasar said, “We’d probably have to find a Wizard to make [Renew], too.”

Erick let out practically all his breath in a low, inaudible groan.

Riivo nodded, glancing from Erick to Tasar, then back to Erick, saying, “She’s right. But you’re already headed after a Wizard, so you might be able to do this.” He added, “We did discuss this at length in the Main Tower but I can distill much of that conversation down to this: a runic web filled with [Renew] would not be the same as releasing runework into the world. So it would likely be acceptable—”

Erick felt his hopes rise, but only a bit.

Riivo continued, “Such open and useful use of runes would likely lead to others wishing to learn runes, which is fine, since education can mostly be controlled— Mostly. You will see various geniuses like yourself pop up now and again and throw everything into chaos, but so what. Nothing wrong with a bit of improvement to various systems here and there.

“Such a genius would likely learn how runic webs work and begin corrupting whatever you put out there, so you simply must take them in hand before that happens, and decide if you need to crush, or nurture.” Riivo said, “Nurturing is almost always the best response, for sometimes such nurturing leads to archmages who pop up and change everything, like you have. Good things, all around!”

Erick’s hopes dropped, for multiple reasons.

This guy had just casually mentioned murder, like it was the best option of two possible options. His paranoia had already suspected that this old man was this way, but now, Riivo confirmed Erick’s dark thoughts. There was still more to learn from the old iron man, though, so Erick chose to pursue the dangerous path of playing along, since pulling out was never an option.

Erick asked, “Can you tell me why, exactly, you need a Wizard to make [Renew]?”

With enthusiasm, Riivo instantly said, “It’s because [Renew] is not a concept in the Script! Oh, sure, you could make such a [Renew] spell possibly at as low as third tier —some of my colleagues suspect such a working would have to be fourth or even fifth tier— but to make it at Basic Tier? For anyone to pick up? This would require a reworking of the Script— Ah! I remember.” He asked, “Here, this is a relevant story. Have you ever heard the tale of [Rebound]?”

Erick had heard of that before. “A Champion of Rozeta altered how Mana Alter worked at the Script-level, plucking [Rebound] out of the working and giving it to everyone. With the Mana Altering necessary for reflective spells now on its own, we get the proliferation of reflective magics due to that Champion’s working. They did this because of some threat, and this act led to the end of that threat.” Erick said, “I looked into [Rebound] for [Renew], but never got too far with that.”

“That story is a small lie; the truth is much deeper than that.” Riivo said, “[Rebound] was plucked out of Mana Altering by an act of Wizardry, undertaken by a Champion of Rozeta, who was, themselves a Wizard.”

Erick stood a bit straighter. “Ah. That happens?”

“More often than you would think.” Riivo said, “Not a single god is properly scared by Wizards or the other natural disasters of this world, since the gods are guides and not tyrants imposing their wills upon us. Rozeta embodies this truth most of all, as she lets people do whatever they want as long as the Script remains intact and nothing threatens the overall stability of the world. Wizards can disrupt the world, but she works with them sometimes to ensure stability. Most of the time her choice does work out, and this was one of those times.

“What happened with [Rebound] is that Rozeta found a Wizard and the Wizard mutated the Script, adding new words to the base Script, to fulfill the need of helping people combat a particularly nasty monster out of Shadehold —Ah. A defunct Shadow Land, now gone, just like Ar’Kendrithyst! Anyway. This particular threat was a monster that fired off thousands of [Force Bolt]s every second, absolutely murdering anyone without reflective spellwork. Small monsters the size of a hand, too. They got everywhere.

“That particular Wizard changed magic and solved a problem, but created millions more.” Riivo shrugged. “Reflective Magic was a good thing overall, though.”

Erick frowned. He eyed both Tasar and Riivo.

Both of the wrought were looking at him, waiting for him to ask what he wanted to ask.

Erick got on with it. “How did Particle Magic happen?”

Riivo smiled brightly, saying, “That is a very good question! We checked. [Call Lightning] went into some Greater Shifting Runes and came out with a rather standard ‘Control Lightning Storm Rain Turbulence’.”

And now Erick was mad again, though he realized he probably shouldn’t have been. He demanded, “How many people have gotten Particle Mage! I only taught one person, and in secret! That was supposed to be difficult.”

Riivo smiled, saying, “Oh! A lot of people have Particle Mage now. We think that the Gemslicers have figured out your [Cascade Imaging], too, but they haven’t been too open about that. Very secretive for a bunch of healers.”

For one long, weird moment, Erick stood there, not saying anything.

A few more moments passed.

And then Erick moved on. He said, “Okay. So. Wizardry for [Gate] and other assorted needs.”

“When you find a Wizard we can keep them safe from the dragons,” Riivo said, waving a hand. “Just need to get them here.”

Tasar said to Riivo, “And we have your assurances of assistance the moment we find one?”

“Of course!” Riivo said, “Just whatever you do don’t anger them. A furious Wizard can break a lot of things that don’t need to be broken.” He added, “There are three, maybe four ways a confrontation with a Wizard will go. You’ll take them unaware, and things proceed well from there. A dragon gets involved and usually wins unless you have overwhelming support, which you likely won’t receive fast enough. The Wizard breaks something and then the Church of Rozeta gets involved, in which case any hope for your own usage of the Wizard will vanish. Or, you die in the attempt. I don’t think the fourth would happen, but it is a possibility.”

Erick easily kept it together as he said, “Let’s move on to another topic, related to this subject of Mana Altering: How does one Remake Mana Altering? Or Strong, or Clarity, or Meditation? Or any of the ones that aren’t actually spells? And I want to make a special Class Ability for Particle Mage. How would I do that?”

Riivo smiled wide, saying, “Much nicer subjects, yes!”

“I can help you with those if we’re done taking up Riivo’s time,” Tasar said.

“Nonsense, Tasar!” Riivo said, “Let’s work on [Clarity]. Now you have an aura, yes?”

Erick imagined it would have been strange for him to keep up his defenses while proceeding to this part of the conversation, so while he let the Ophiel on his shoulder take over sunform duty, Erick dismissed his own sunform and focused inward. He opened his ‘third eye’. Light clung to his skin, barely wisping away in a thin fog.

“Yes, I do.” Erick added, “But it’s rather light-aspected. Not sure how that happened, but I got it while I was in the Core so there hasn’t been much time to experiment.”

Tasar stared at the light coming off of Erick, sighing a little bit in resignation. She was likely thinking something along the lines of ‘my mother is going to be thrilled by this’.

Riivo’s thoughts were similarly bare, but he had a habit of thinking and speaking the same thing, with little in the way of filter between mind and action. Proving himself to be exactly the kindly old man he presented, Riivo hummed, nodded, and said, “This thing you have going on here is due to the Light Essence you took in to acquire [Greater Lightwalk], combined with your Light Domain, and running both all the time. I would suggest you learn how to manually cast some Force spells, feel how such a working cleans your aura of light, and move on to a full clean. We won’t be able to get you the Remake Quests for Strong or Clarity tonight, but I can send a book your way about how to clean up your aura, and another to help you Remake Meditation. Remaking Meditation is easily done, but Remaking Clarity is among the toughest abilities to Remake.”

Erick shut off his aura and began recasting his sunform, saying, “That works.”

Riivo said, “And with that, I suppose I should be headed back. It was very nice to meet you, Erick.” He smiled a bit, appearing fully genuine as he said, “Archmage Flatt. You know, if you want your name in the List of Archmages there’s some paperwork to fill out. All of the hard part of actually making magic of the correct power is already taken care of, so [Teleport] by sometime and we can sort that paperwork. We have books on understanding Wizards, too.” He softly said, “Those books can’t leave the premises, though. You understand.”

Erick nodded. “I understand. Thanks for the invitation.”

With a wave of his hand, Riivo dismissed all of the chalkboards and book podiums while catching the books in his telekinetic grip. A twist sent the books to their crate and closed it up, while the air shifted and the [Scry Blocker], or whatever it was, came down. Riivo gestured to the crate, as he walked toward the t-station, saying, “Your books, Tasar. I hope to be able to loan books out to you too, and soon, Erick.”

Erick said, “Soon.”

Riivo stepped on the t-station, nodded toward Erick and Tasar, and then vanished in a blip.

Erick breathed out, then in—

Tasar said, “I’m free for the rest of the day. Want to work on cleaning your aura? I have the [Gate] materials, too, but your aura might be more important.”

“… Sure. Aura work.”

Erick wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it together. The disregard of immortals for the plans of mortals was grating on him. He had had plans for runework. Plans for gridwork. Ideas about making the world better. Ideas about improvement and education and—

Ah.

Was Nirzir in danger? He had handed all of this stuff off to her, too.

Lying through omission about being a Wizard and already having [Renew] had been a lot easier than he expected it to be, though.

Erick put those thoughts behind him and he worked on his aura on the beach with Tasar. His plan for dealing with the wrought remained the same: Do as much as he needed to do to leave allies behind him, and then get the fuck out of here.

- - - -

In an opulent room of tall white pillars and bright light, Riivo stepped out of possibility to stand before an august assembly of interested parties, already underway in their own discussions. Healer Awir was already taking tea with King Alfonin, while Second Prince Sitnakov spoke to High Inquisitor Kromolok alongside First Prince Abarnikon. The Queen was out somewhere, then? Well whatever. They had been talking to each other, but now everyone was looking his way, and it was time to give the bad news even if the audience was less than full.

“Inconclusive,” Riivo said, to the gathered audience.

King Alfonin, Awir, and Kromolok were unmoved. Abarnikon nodded. Sitnakov smiled, and that was worrying. That boy was honestly having too much fun with Erick. Sitnakov had a long record of failures of doing his duty against people he liked, and if it came to it, he would hesitate against Erick. That might prove fatal.

But before anyone could speak out, Riivo continued, “Even if the man is a Wizard he has already proven his character a hundred times over. This Shade Hunt does not need to happen.”

King Alfonin narrowed his eyes at Riivo, asking, “Did you actually speak of Wizards?”

Riivo chose his words carefully, as he always did, saying “Erick is on the Path, and so he invariably walks toward the best possible questions, and since he is hunting Wizards, we spoke of Wizards.” Riivo continued, “We spoke of [Renew]. We spoke of outcomes when hunting Wizards. We spoke of the Wizard Champion of Rozeta who made [Rebound]. All signs point to him being on the hunt to find and understand Wizardry, which makes him a great candidate for pulling his Path away from the Dark God. He asked the right questions to mark him as exactly who he appears to be.”

Alfonin pulled back his ire. He turned toward Sitnakov, asking, “Your opinion?”

“I see no signs but I consider him a Wizard anyway, and we should let him continue, unmolested,” Sitnakov said.

“I agree.” Riivo said, “Even if he is a Wizard, we should let him do what he wants. He’s headed in a direction we desire, and we should ensure that he makes it there.”

Alfonin frowned, his anger guttering. He turned to Kromolok. “Your opinion?”

“Rozeta has thrown in with him as much as she can, and so we should as well.” Kromolok said, “He willingly came with us to this land. He did not kill when he could have. He has put himself under our mercy while also attempting to garner long lasting relationships with us through planting Yggdrasil on our foyer. We should prove ourselves worthy of being handed this opportunity.”

Riivo nodded at that.

Alfonin asked First Son Abarnikon, “What of the other Geodes?”

“Titanite is angry at us for taking Yggdrasil; they were not prepared to accept Erick as a side effect of Yggdrasil, though.” Abarnikon said, “All the rest of the Geodes wish us well with the [Firebomb] we’ve taken under our care.”

“And our interests in Ar’Kendrithyst?” Alfonin asked.

Abarnikon said, “Reclamation is going well, but slow. The black ooze coming out of the dead Geode has shown no abatement, but the amalgams it creates are being purposefully changed to better fight those who fight the ooze. The [Dispel]ing amalgams are proving to be troublesome for they are starting to show the ability to erode Domainwork.”

Alfonin frowned a little, then turned back toward Riivo. “How observant is the mortal?”

“Extremely.” Riivo said, “I can’t speak for the Mind Mages, but this man basically has a low-tier [Empathy] active at all times. Self-inflicted, I expect; a mutation of the Blessing he wrapped around the remaining Shades. He probably thinks it’s natural.”

Alfonin looked toward Kromolok. Everyone followed the King’s gaze.

“His empathy is natural.” Kromolok said, “He has no Mind Mage spellwork, and he has made no attempt to learn any. I would have informed you if he did. What you are seeing, Riivo is Erick’s natural ability paired with high Perception and Intelligence. He created his Blessing out of his natural ability; not the other way around.”

Riivo raised a hand in defeat, saying, “His empathy might be magically enhanced now, yes, but I’m talking about his base ability to read people. When we spied upon him back when he first let out Particle Magic into the world he displayed almost the same ability as he has these days, though it was lesser back then. His empathy is heightened these days, but his base ability was never natural. I tested him a few times right now, but when he displayed the ability to practically read my thoughts, I decided that there would be no more testing. I warn you not to test him yourself.”

“A fair set of warnings.” King Alfonin said, “Awir. You said you would speak when you had time to think. Has enough time passed to hear your words?”

Everyone turned toward Awir.

Awir thought for a moment, then said, “Above all else, I don’t like how the Dark enabled Sitnakov, Tasar, and Kromolok to reach the Core days ahead of schedule. I believe that Erick has 20 missing days before he met with Rozeta, but I also believe Erick’s story that he was talking to Rozeta about the fate of this world.

“And I believe we interrupted something important. Something that the Dark didn’t want to happen, therefore, we were in the wrong.

“But since Rozeta has a history of working with Wizards...

“She is for new worlds. All the gods are for new worlds. Some of them even trust the Dark not to destroy us all when he escapes.

“But since Yggdrasil won’t become real for another hundred years without gods or a very strong Wizard removing the seal on him, we have time.

“Now… Is Erick a Wizard? Could he circumvent all of the time I believe we have? Maybe. But he’d lose the Script for a while, and we would have a window in which to grab and kill him. And so, I say we have time.” Awir said, “Time to think. To observe. To let events unfold. Tasar will be right there with him on his Path till he either finishes or abandons it, so we will know if he finds a Wizard. We will know if he threatens an End. We have time.”

Awir always had a way with words, and in the following silence that filled the room, Riivo felt better about giving Erick the benefit of the doubt.

Riivo said, “He certainly understood the issues with giving out runework to the world. He also added ‘finding a Wizard to make [Renew]’ to his Path, so we likely have more time than we thought.”

The discussion flowed around the room for a good long while.

- - - -

Kromolok watched as everyone banded around ideas based on falsehoods, talking about the future or about possible new worlds, or about the warning signs to watch for if everything was nearing an End. If time was running out.

But they had no time at all.

Erick was a Wizard, and a strong one, too.

He had already made [Renew], solving one of the ways in which one watched for Wizards; by seeing if they ate monster Cores to fuel their own growth. He wouldn’t have a monstrous rage, either, though the last part was mostly because of Rozeta who had made him the immortal progenitor of a new race of morphers.

Erick had already formed a Wizard Core, too. His rage was under control!

Kromolok was worried for the first time in a long time...

And yet…

All the people around him were right about one thing. Rozeta had put some trust into Erick. The Goddess of the Script believed in this reincarnation of Xoat, this Savior of Light, this Scourer of Shadows, or any of the hundreds of other names they were calling him. Calling him ‘Xoat’ was the only one that might have been true; all the rest were fictions based on the delusions of mortals, and even a few immortals.

No one here knew Erick by that name, though.

The idea of Erick being Xoat was one of the only things stopping Kromolok from speaking out against the existential threat that was Erick Flatt. Xoat had turned the Darkness to the Light once before. Xoat could do it again; if anyone could actually fulfill that Ultimate Quest, Xoat could.

And Erick already was.

And besides. While they might speak of Tasar as a [Scry] eye that can’t be popped, Kromolok and the Mind Mages already had eyes on Erick. His People had known of Erick’s character for long before now, and so far, Erick had proven himself as exactly who he appeared to be.

He might be their hope for a new world. For many new worlds.

Or he might be the death of them all.

When the Dark created the Old Cosmology he had to try a few times to get it right, which didn’t bode well for the people living in the current post-Sundered Veird. And yet, the Dark might not even be the true threat, in this particular case. The Dark might not be the ones to kill the wrought! How hilarious!

Erick was near ready to kill them all. He might even succeed.

Kromolok was not going to let anyone create a self-fulfilling prophecy though, if he could help… it...

… The conversation had turned in a bad direction.

“All I’m saying is that I want to go out there and test him a few more times,” Sitnakov said. “I don’t see anything wrong with this.”

Kromolok spoke up, “Do not create a problem where there is none. Any improper handling at all might cause a backlash for Erick is oversensitive to danger at the moment. Do not make him mark us as an enemy.”

Riivo said, “I agree. We must let him loose and with barely any oversight at all. Even Tasar might be too much. There is a danger, yes, but let Erick destroy other cultures and lands; not ours.”

King Alfonin turned to Sitnakov, asking, “I don’t think you should go with them.”

Sitnakov scoffed, saying, “I might have had a bad first impression, but Erick didn’t even know who I was, and...”

Kromolok tuned them out while he considered his own thoughts.

The problem, he considered, was that he had no idea where he truly stood; with the wrought, or with his People. So he sipped his ‘aluminum’ tea —he wasn’t sure if he liked what Erick had done to ‘holyite’, either— spoke when he was spoken to, answered questions with suitable levels of evasion, and gave no indication of his true inner thoughts, or the inner thoughts of Erick.

It was honestly disrespectful to have this sort of crisis of faith and yet Kromolok had been cleaning up Rozeta’s various missteps since the very beginning. Many of her ideas had worked out, but some… Some of her ideas and plans had failed.

Time would tell all, soon enough.