071 (Patreon)

The air in the hospital smelled of cold stone. Erick didn’t like it. At first, the smell was normal, not really even there. But as Poi and Kiri slept in their beds and the afternoon came, as he channeled mana through several Ophiel to the farms of Spur so far away, the clean, stone smell of the hospital, became pervasive. Oppressive. Unkind, even though it obviously was. This was a hospital, after all.

Ophiel trilled on Erick’s lap. He was quiet about it, but it was still audible. He looked up at Erick with a few tiny eyes; he must have sensed Erick’s growing unease. The truth was, was that Erick didn’t much care for hospitals. Years ago, his mother died of cancer and his father died of a heart attack, and by the time he was old enough to recognize them as his grandparents, his two grandmothers also died of cancer. With all of his medical history pointing toward an early death, it was hard for Erick to be happy about hospitals.  

He expected to die in a few years, laying in some hospital somewhere, dying of some unrelenting disease. But that just didn’t happen on Veird. Erick was safe from death, at least in that specific way. Heck, he even talked to Death occasionally, asking the god of the End about magic.

As so, as Erick looked to Poi and Kiri, both still sleeping under thin white blankets in their individual hospital beds, worry ate at him. The two dragonkin should have woken up a while ago. The doctor had administered [Greater Treat Wounds]. They were healed, according to the doctor, but they had to wake in their own time. Those were the doctor’s words. Erick could do nothing but trust she was correct.

Erick looked away from Poi and Kiri to see beyond the windows above their beds. He couldn’t see much except the sky. The sun slanted in at a hard angle, spilling yellow light across the center of the stone room. Outside of the room, beyond an open door, footsteps tapped on the stone as people walked back and forth in stone hallways, going wherever they needed to go. This hospital was busy, all the time, but it was mostly quiet. Rats had left a while ago; he was needed elsewhere. Teressa stayed. She sat in another chair on the other side of the room. Sunlight fell across her calm face, and closed eyes. She was meditating, trying to get in touch with the mana, trying to develop her Mana Sense. Erick watched the manasphere swirl around her, flowing in and out of her grey clothes and green skin. She smiled slightly.

Her smile failed.

She opened her eyes, blinking hard as she turned toward the door. She stood, then moved to the side of the room, preparing for something to come through the door as she glanced at Erick, sending, ‘The Headmaster is coming.’

Erick nodded to Teressa as he stood. Ophiel flapped up to his shoulder, shrinking to parakeet-sized. Erick continued to channel mana though his [Familiar], across the ocean, as he listened to the sounds of the hospital echoing from the open door. The usual bustle of the hospital turned quieter or stopped altogether, as a person, light on their feet and wearing padded shoes, walked through the hallway. Erick heard a few small gasps out there. He adjusted his own clothes, making sure they were straight and tidy. Ophiel quickly preened himself by flickering his wings and eyes into better, more symmetrical positions, trying to mimic Erick’s preparations.

The Headmaster stepped into the doorway of the room. He was an ancient human-looking man, but also regal, wearing immaculately clean and pressed yellow and white robes. He gazed into the room with amber eyes, and a soft expression. He saw Kiri and Poi, and with a slight frown, whispered, “I hope I am not disturbing.”

Erick spoke normally, saying, “Come on in, Headmaster.” He looked to Kiri and Poi, then said, “They should have been awake a while ago. Maybe I just need to start talking around them and they’ll wake.”

The Headmaster nodded as he stepped into the room. He nodded towards Teressa, saying, “Teressa. I hear you’re doing well in Esoteric Magic.”

Teressa stood a bit straighter. Even though she towered over the Headmaster by a good three feet and a few hundred kilograms, she still seemed like a precocious young girl, as she said, “Thank you, sir. I am trying.”

The Headmaster smiled. He turned to Erick. “You haven’t made a single new spell since you came here, and now you make three?”  

Erick felt his stomach turn. He must have flinched, because the Headmaster noticed.

The Headmaster added, “I’m not chastising you. I just find it odd. I expected you to be leading the charge into this new kind of magic. Not to sit back and let others forage ahead.” He looked to Kiri and Poi, saying, “Have you grown scared of pain?”

Erick looked at his apprentice, and his head guard, sleeping under white sheets, because of an experiment he had failed to fully prepare for. He felt the air go out of him as he said, “Yes.”  

The Headmaster said, “Existence is suffering.”

The way he said it was so foreign but yet so familiar, in a different language and an infinity far from everything that Erick had known before, that a smile came unbidden to Erick, along with a bubble of laughter.

The Headmaster looked at him with eyes askance.  

Erick immediately said, “Sorry. It just— That’s a saying back where I come from. From a religion, actually.”  

Now it was the Headmaster’s turn to be surprised. “… it is?”

“There’s a religion known as Buddhism. I was never very religious, but their first tenet is ‘Existence is Suffering’. The second is… suffering happens because of want and desire. The third is...” Erick thought for a second. He said, “I think it’s... ‘to deny these desires is to stop the suffering’. The last tenet is a guide on how to achieve this goal which I completely forget but it involves a lot of ‘living correctly’.”

The Headmaster looked away from Erick, back to Kiri and Poi, saying, “A wise people, then, these buddhismists.”

Erick smiled again.

The Headmaster asked, “Do you consider yourself religious these days?”

Erick paused. He thought. He said, “The words are the same, but the way I think of religion and how it is here seems to be fundamentally different from everything I knew. If you would have asked me this question back on Earth, I would have said no, because the only thing I ever felt we had on Earth was each other. But here, on Veird? There’s gods that you can talk to, and help from a Script to make life better.” He added, “Am I religious? No. Am I religious? Maybe.”  

The Headmaster stood in silence for a long moment, as the quiet sounds of a hospital in motion played out in the hallways beyond the room. He said, “Your classes with me begin tomorrow, if you so choose.”

Erick said, “I would like that.”

The Headmaster nodded, then turned, and walked out of the room.  

Small footsteps on stone echoed in the sounds of an empty hospital. After a minute, the quiet multitudes of people walking back and forth resumed. Everyone had places to be, after all.  

Erick sat back down in his chair. Ophiel resumed his position on Erick’s lap, quietly harping and singing of violins. A pluck here, a vibration there.  

After another minute passed, and the Headmaster seemed to truly be gone, Teressa sent, ‘I feel like I just missed a wyrm’s charge.’

Erick sent back, ‘Me too.’

Teressa eventually went back to training her Mana Sense, while Erick continued to rain on Spur’s farms. Gentle silence filled the air.  

An hour later, Kiri woke up first with a grumble and a groan.

Teressa smiled wide, as she said, “Welcome back, Kiri.”

Erick rushed to her side, saying, “I’m so sorry, Kiri! I should have put up a stone bunker. I should have [Teleport]ed us all far away. There was no need to do the experiment so—”

Kiri grumbled out, “Not so loud.”

Erick went silent.  

Kiri sighed out into the air, saying, “Headache’s still there.”

“The doctor said you should be fine,” Erick half pleaded, half stated. He calmed, adding, “Soon enough.”

Kiri blinked hard. She asked, “Did you manage to make a spell out of that?”

Erick sighed. He centered himself. He said, “Not yet. I haven’t leveled the pieces, and I’m not sure if it’s going to work, anyway. The Headmaster came in here—”

“What!” Kiri’s scaled green face flushed a darker green as she said, “While I was laid out like this?” She mumbled toward the ceiling, “So fucking embarrassing.”

Erick smiled. Kiri was going to be okay. But just to make sure, Erick went out into the hallway to find the doctor. Kiri was already out of her bed, back into normal clothes and hungry, by the time Erick returned with the doctor. After a quick checkup and another casting of [Greater Treat Wounds], the doctor gave Kiri the ‘all clear’. Kiri and Teressa went down to the cafeteria to get something while the doctor went back to her duties and Erick waited in the room, beside Poi. Soon enough, Kiri and Teressa returned with food, and Rats.  

As the scents of meats and sauces filled the room, Poi opened his eyes.

“Smell’s good,” he said.

Rats held a forkfull of meat, saying, “Heeey! Look who’s awake.”

“Oh thank the gods,” Erick whispered into his rice bowl, thankful that Poi was awake. He set his dinner aside.

Poi grumbled, “It was a mistake to not believe you, sir.”

Erick burst into laughter, and if a few tears fell, then no one said anything.  

“Not so loud, please,” Poi instantly said.

Erick went quiet. He whispered, “I’m the one who’s sorry. I really should have moved us all much further from the experiment. This was entirely my fault. I’m sorry, Poi.”

Poi sighed out, blinking long. Tendrils of thought flowed from him into the world, once again. He said, “What did I miss?”

Rats said, “Nothing major.”

Kiri packed up her dinner into a conjured box, saying, “Let’s go back to the Manor. We can eat there?”

Poi’s stomach grumbled. He said, “Sounds good to me.”

Teressa said, “I’ll go get something from the cafeteria for you, Poi. Any requests?”

“Fish.” Poi said, “And rice.”

Teressa nodded as she walked out of the room.  

Rats packed away his own dinner, saying, “I’ll call the doctor back. You need a once-over before we check you out, Poi.”

Poi sighed out, “Fine.”

Erick smiled. They were going to be okay.

- - - -

Kiri and Poi were going to be okay, but Erick still didn’t know about Jane.

Erick laid in bed with a tiny Ophiel sitting on his stomach. He couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t called Jane since Rats clued him in that she probably had dragon essence. She must have had it since she came back from Killtree, but she hadn’t said anything, except that she might be coming to Oceanside.  

Surely she knew how dangerous that would be for her?  

Danger never stopped her before, but the fact that she hadn’t even told him about the essence said a lot. Jane didn’t like it when he worried over her. She didn’t like it when anyone worried over her. She was the strong one; that was half of her whole personality. Erick wished she could be a bit more vulnerable with someone, but he also didn’t want her heartbroken, either.  

A lot of jumbled emotions rumbled around in Erick’s head. Moments passed in quiet contemplation, as Erick came around to the same thought: was Jane up for a call? After staring at the ceiling for twenty minutes, he decided to just call her. She could tell him to stay away from her problems if she wanted.

He summoned a few tiny Ophiel and sent them [Teleporting] to Spur. Soon enough, one of them, tiny and quaint, hovered above Erick’s mage tower.  

He opened up a telepathic connection to Jane, ‘Hello? You busy?’  

‘Hey, dad.’ Jane sent, ‘Not that busy right now. What’s up?’

Erick relaxed.‘Oh, good. It’s been a day, let me tell you.’

A smidgen of mirth came through the connection, as Jane sent, ‘I’m just eating dinner right now, so tell me all about it.’  

Erick began, and the words came out like a dam broken. ‘So I made a dungeon that makes light slimes and I think [Renew] is a part of [Ward] and...’

They talked for hours. About magic and monsters, dragons and deception, and everything else in between. Jane was the one who brought up she had accidentally taken in dragon essence. Erick freaked out a little, but Jane immediately said she wasn’t coming to Oceanside.  

Crisis averted!  

She had spoken with the Mage Trio next door and decided against visiting the island arcanaeum. The Headmaster did have a track record for eating noncompliant dragon essence tainted people, and Jane was rather unsure she could ever fully commit to the role. Besides, she had found a different way to get rid of her unwanted essence. She wouldn’t give any details regarding what she had found, but her essence should be gone in 25 more days, or so. After that, came convalescence. It was supposed to be bad, but Jane could deal. Erick believed her.  

The conversation turned toward other topics.  

It was nice to hear Jane speak.

- - - -

Erick woke up with the sunrise. A cold light laid in the sky, outside of the windows of Windy Manor, while the scents of cinnamon and sugar drifted on the air. Erick had ‘invented’ cinnamon a month ago; Kiri was taking well to the spice. It was a bit odd to see [Grow] be used to repair the outermost layer of bark on a tree, but it worked well enough, and Kiri loved cinnamon. She had even bought [Grow] so she could regrow the cinnamon bark on the trees outside.  

He had ‘invented’ a few other spices since then. Nutmeg and ginger were big hits. Poi especially liked ginger slices on his fish. He had made some middling progress on chocolate, but aside from the proper shape of the Tarip trees to the side of the front lawn, Erick had made little actual process on creating chocolate.

 Erick looked down into the center of the house, down to the kitchen at the side, below. Kiri was chopping up onions for breakfast omelets. She must have already had the cinnamon rolls baking in the oven.  

He went to the bathroom and did his morning routine as Ophiel plodded around the floor outside the room, occasionally scratching at the door. When Erick came out, Ophiel flitted up to his shoulder, taking his proper place for the next hour or the whole day, or however long he decided to remain clutched to Erick’s clothes.  

Erick walked down to breakfast.

“Do you want to come to the Headmaster’s lesson today, Kiri?” Erick asked.

“Absolutely not.”  

Erick paused. He looked around the room. Rats read the newspaper on the couch in front of the large windows, while Teressa practiced Mana Sense in the corner of the living room. Poi must have woken up, upstairs; Erick heard the door to his room open upstairs. He looked up. Poi stepped onto the balcony, then went on his way to the bathroom up there.

Erick turned to Kiri, asking, “Are you sure you don’t want to come? This is that ‘magic for the archmage’ class you wanted.”

Moments passed without an answer. Rats read his paper and Teressa blinked in the morning light.  

Kiri shoved around cooking eggs in a skillet, saying, “While I am thankful for his generosity, he is a dragon. I almost forgot that.” She shivered a bit, then said, “I still can’t believe that he came into our hospital room and you talked him down from killing us all.”

Erick exclaimed, “Ohh! I don’t think it was that bad.”

Teressa spoke up, “It was that bad, sir.”

Kiri added, “Particle Magic is too broad. It’s too big. It’s finally starting to become a problem for the people in charge.”

“Yup,” Rats added, flipping through his paper. He asked, “Is Jane still coming to Oceanside?”

“No.” Erick said, “I talked to her last night—”

“Sir!” Poi called out from the second floor balcony. “The Headmaster is coming right now.”

Erick barely had time to react to Poi before the air outside of Windy Manor blazed gold. The Headmaster stepped out of the light, casual as could be. Erick tried to be casual, too, rushing toward the front door, but he caught his toes on the couch leg. His [Personal Ward] flashed white as he yelped in surprise, more than in pain. Ophiel flitted off of his shoulder to hang in the air.  

Erick controlled his steps and ignored the expanding bundle of embarrassment in his stomach as he stepped to the front door. He opened the door in time for the Headmaster to arrive at the entrance. The elderly looking man stood just outside of the [Crystalline Air] layered around the manor.

“Hello.” Erick said, “I wasn’t expecting—”

“I know.” The Headmaster said, “Though I have promised to teach you personally, I don’t have much time to do such a thing. Right now is all the time I have today, so. If you are ready we will be having a quick lesson and then you can get back to whatever else you desire.” He stepped away from the door, saying, “I will wait out here for you to get ready.”

“I’m ready right now.” Erick said, as he followed the old man into the front lawn. He conjured shoes as he stepped onto the grass, following the Headmaster westward, across the lawn, between the garden.

The Headmaster walked along the stone path. He glanced at the churned dirt and the rows of potatoes growing on the vines as he continued toward the cliffs. He studied the cinnamon trees for a brief moment, scenting the air. He paused over the rows of ginger, saying, “I admit, I am in a rush, but these things here… They smell wonderful.”  

“Take whatever you’d like, at any time.”

He nodded, then turned to Erick. He asked, “How did your last attempt at [Prismatic Ward] fare?”

“Decent.” Erick said, “Five-fold defense and full permissions.”

“Nearly there. Do you have an Elemental Body skill, yet?”

“No.”

“You should get one. Perhaps two. Since you plan on killing Shades you might need to get both [Shadowalk] and [Lightwalk]. Just one or the other would be fine enough, but both together would leave them little chance to harm you and also allow you to utilize the same forces they employ.” The Headmaster turned and continued to walk to the edge of the property.  

Erick followed. The sounds of crashing waves far below carried up on a steady breeze.  

The Headmaster meters from the edge, saying, “[Air Body] and [Water Body] might be easier to obtain. I have two dungeons that hold slimes of these types on this island. I could lend them to you, though there would need to be another bargain of trade for such a thing.” He looked to Erick. “Aside from all that: Is there a specific goal you have in mind with my teaching you in the ways of the archmage?”

Erick smiled, looking out into the dark ocean, as the sun rose over the forest behind. He said, “Would you care to see the dungeon I’ve been working on for Professor Calloway’s class? It is pertinent to this discussion.”

The Headmaster said, “Sure.” He held his hand out to Erick. “I’m ready right now.”

Erick took the Headmaster’s hand without reservation.  

Blip.

They appeared in twilight woods. Gold laid across the green canopy above, but cold laid on the ground in a light mist.  

Erick said, “So I made a dungeon that produces light slimes.”

The Headmaster paused, then laughed loud into the sky. He said, “What!” He smiled, adding, “No you did not? No. Wait. You’re not lying.” He rumbled a low, “Hmm.”

Erick continued, “I think that the [Renew] spell I want to make is already a part of the Script, and it’s inside [Ward].” He added, “And I’m not sure how light oozes come about, so I’ve been doing this Domain every time I come here, before—”  

Ophiel popped into the air beside Erick, trilling in cellos and flutes.

Erick smiled as Ophiel sat down on his shoulder, saying, “Ah, you caught up. Good boy.”  

The Headmaster looked from Ophiel to Erick, as he said, “No need for the Domain. Just lead the way to this miracle dungeon. If there is a light ooze I want it alive.” He looked around at the mist, then walked toward a dip in the ground ahead, saying, “It’s here, yes?”

Erick stepped to his side, saying, “Yes.”

The Headmaster gestured to the ground, saying, “Pardon my impatience, but I really need to see this.”

Erick rushed forward and opened the entrance to the dungeon. Glows poured out into the mists all around them as Erick stepped down into the ground, leading the way down stone staircases, into the light. He was mostly silent on the way down, as the Headmaster stepped lightly behind him.  

Down, down.  

When they came to the bucket of sunglasses, Erick put one on himself and handed another to the Headmaster, but the white-haired not-man gently shook his head. He would not need such a thing to protect his eyes from the glares.  

Erick began talking about what was up ahead. His speech this time was much more organized compared to what he had said to Poi. As they stepped on to the main dungeon floor, Erick pointed out the kaleidoscopic Permanent lightwards hanging on the ceiling, gently spinning under mana and air flows. Ophiel stayed on Erick’s shoulder the whole time, his eyes wide and mostly focused backward, at the Headmaster, as the Headmaster’s eyes crawled across every inch of the room, to linger on the residents of the dungeon.

Light slimes, like beach balls made of clear gelatin, rimmed in white and with a core of brightness, bounced around the prismatic room. They played in waterfalls and floated along, carried around the dungeon floor in shallow streams, plopping in and out of the water as they saw fit. The Headmaster saw everything, but he said nothing.

Erick continued to talk. His speech turned to the Scientific Method.

Privately, and admitted to no one but himself, Erick entertained the idea that maybe he shouldn’t knock the system that has thus far kept the civilizations of Veird out of the maws of monsters.  

But then he went ahead and said what he was thinking, “But your system works well for keeping the monsters outside of the city walls.”

Erick went quiet after that, as they walked through ever shifting magentas, cyans, and yellows, and more than a little bit of other, more esoteric electromagnetic waves. Ultraviolet, for sure, but also infrared; special [Ward]s didn’t go much beyond that. Erick had already tried for higher energy lightwards, like gamma, and gotten nothing, while longer wavelength rays, like radio, similarly didn’t happen.  

Soon, the Headmaster and Erick both stood in the center of the room, near the main pool, while light slimes bumbled here and there in the water. There was more of them today than yesterday. Erick silently counted ten slimes, as he watched the Headmaster look around the room. The Headmaster also said nothing. Erick waited.  

The Headmaster eventually said. “There might be some truth to this [Renew] being inside [Ward], though that would be an odd way to look at our common understanding of the spell. The common thinking is that [Ward] is similar to [Mend], and where [Mend] repairs something to what it was before, [Ward] similarly stamps itself on Reality, and repairs back to what it was at the time of casting.” He said, “This bears investigating.” He continued, “But for now, what I mainly see, is that you have managed to discover the secret of the Gemslicer’s darklights. By incorporating of them into this dungeon, along with some similarly odd [Heat Ward]s, you have managed to create a light slime spawning zone.”

Erick said, “Well. Uh...”

“Oh?” The Headmaster glanced at Erick, saying, “You did not discover a secret, did you. You knew how to do this without them.”

Erick said nothing.

The Headmaster smirked. He continued, “Also, this ‘Scientific Method’…” The Headmaster smiled slightly. Then he frowned. He sighed, then said all at once, “We teach out of books because, as you say, it works. For the occasional few who wish to reach beyond the power taught in school, there is usually only failure and years of waiting for another chance to combine their magic again. Or relegation to the smaller tiers, where tests and experiments can be carried out once a day, or every ten, for decades.” He added, “I have known so many mages who if they only had a few more tries, they might have made something great. But the Script is set like it is to stop the abuses of magic.” He went silent.

Erick listened to the burbling water as he watched bobbling slimes play in the pond at his feet.

The Headmaster said, “There are a few gods that think you are a wizard.”

“I heard as much from several of them already.”

The Headmaster chuckled. He said, “The more I see, the more I realize that you are not a wizard. You’re barely an archmage.”

Erick joked, “That second title opens a lot of doors for me. I could do without the first one, though.”

The Headmaster smiled. He said, “To be a wizard, you would have to have the ability to bring into existence things which have no basis in reality.” He glanced to Ophiel, saying, “Even your [Familiar] follows a known method of creation.” He added, “Indeed, the only thing that sets you apart from others is that you are using the true physical properties of this universe in order to create new magic, and because of this, the Mana loves you.”

The Headmaster said, “Empathy used to be supremely important for any prospective mage. It was how you felt out Mana, it was how Mana came to understand you in return. Now? Now… Things are different, but not really that different at all.”

He folded his hands behind himself as he looked up into the light, then across the room. “I was three hundred when the Sundering took everything away and landed us in this place. We didn’t have Classes or the Script before then. We had to do it all by hand. Shaping the mana, imbuing it with idea and meaning, taking bits of ourselves and leaving them in all of our workings. But this did not mean that we were throwing around thoughtforms and emotionfeelings without regard to the world around us. Magic only worked when you knew what you were doing, because most people were not Wizards. Those that came before studied Reality extensively in order to become better mages. They practiced thoughtforms under specific schools of thought. They carved emotions out of the sky and measured the angle of reflection and refraction. They knew what they were doing, because imagination was only a small part of the mage process. It was a very large part, but it was still only a small part, if you can understand that. If you didn’t know what you were doing, you’d kill yourself sooner than you’d ever light a torch.

“My previous universe had been plumbed and divined. The pieces of it had been parted out into known quantities. Stone, Fire, Water, Air, Light and Dark; the constituent fragments of Reality. Those that could work these facts were called mages. Those that worked these facts well were called archmages. Those who sang their own mutated truths out of the mana were called Wizards. And then it all ended, and we ended up here.

“But despite the vast differences in fragments from the Old Cosmology to this New Cosmology, it all looks the same, really. We would not have survived if we had not gotten lucky enough to find this new, nearly-the-same universe. But it is not truly the same. Not at all.” He looked off into the distance for a moment. He came back to himself, saying, “You are no wizard. You just know a few parts of this reality and you have the Script to help you along. The rest of us are using ancient shovels, in an ancient land, while you have [Stoneshape].” He went quiet again, as he gazed upon the scattered, colorful lights of the dungeon. He seemed to be thinking of something. His head tilted just a little, then tilted back.

Erick waited.  

The Headmaster said, “Try for [Prismatic Ward] again. Here and now. It should protect you a fair bit more than those [Crystalline Air]s of yours. You have been working on this spell, yes?”

Erick stuttered out, “Yea— Yeah! Sure. Okay. The last time I tried was actually a few days ago.” He summoned another four tiny Ophiels into the air beside him. As the tiny winged guys popped out of a vibrating manasphere and the Ophiel on his shoulder flitted into the air to join himself, Erick said, “Just need to summon a few more.”

“Do whatever you feel the need to do.” The Headmaster added, “I can take more time for this than I thought I could. No rush.”

Erick summoned two more tiny Ophiel. Soon, seven Ophiel floated through the room.  

He directed his attention to the pool of water in front of him, and the light slimes rolling through the water. With a bit of [Stoneshape], the slimes rolled out of the way, to the side. Erick reworked the plumbing with precise control. He set aside the pool’s outflow to another protected part of the water system of the dungeon, leaving him with a perfectly circular pond, just a few inches deep, filled with crystal clear water. With no slimes playing in the pond or streams pouring into the space, the water soon calmed. The only thing that disturbed the perfect surface was the stream of mana and air from above. This inflow set ripples expanding from the center of the pond.  

Erick’s mana had recovered enough to continue with the rest of the setup. He set his seven tiny Ophiel evenly around the pool, as he glanced at the Headmaster. The Headmaster did not need to be asked; he stepped backward, away from the water.  

With a gentle command, separated into seven pieces, Erick commanded Ophiel to expand. Each tiny [Familiar] unfolded with wing and feathers and eyes, one meter tall, then two. Each of them turned symmetrical; jumbles of wings and eyes became artistic grace. This was not their full size, but it was slightly bigger than Erick, and that was the perfect size. He set each winged Ophiel on a different task. He started with the one on his left.  

Seven motes of stone floated up from the dungeon floor, into the air around the first Ophiel, shaped into spheres. The second Ophiel grabbed seven globes of water pulled from the pond. [Prestidigitation] gave rise to orbs of fire, held in place with [Fireshape] around the third Ophiel, while balls of flowing air came from the inlet above the pool and took position around the fourth Ophiel. Radiance circled the next Ophiel, seven perfect spheres of light plucked from the room, while seven orbs of utter darkness held around the sixth Ophiel. The seventh held strong with seven floating balls of diamond, roughly plucked from a nearby statue and quickly shaped into perfect spheres by Erick’s concentrated effort. He scattered the resulting diamond dust into the pool, setting the water to sparkling even more, as hand-sized, smooth and spherical orbs began to float around the last Ophiel.  

Erick cast seven [Wards] across the pool. They were filled with intent, but not much more than that.  

Though he didn’t get all the math in Hocnihai’s books, the ritual and the process called to Erick in some deep way. He hadn’t planned on doing this today, or here, but now was as good a time as any to try and go for the big spell.

With another gentle nudge, he set all seven Ophiel to singing their parts. Erick joined them,  

“Here we lay a solid claim to land roughhewn and gentle made

“by this act of river tamed, by this need of monsters slain.

“Start a pyre, burn the night! Keep us safe and not afraid.

“Feel the breeze and scent the wind, banish all your thoughts of pain

“for all is seen and all is known, for these lights will never wane.

“If monsters crawl we are prepared, for there are ever hidden swords

“here in this hard land, I say! Here in this [Prismatic Ward]!”

Erick flowed meaning and power into his words as Ophiel joined him, surrounding the rippling pool and its layered, basic warding with vibrations and meaning and magic. Each line passed broke one of the [Ward]s over the water, quickly leaving the air empty, but full of resonance.  

The air broke over the pond.  

One second, there was nothing but the changing kaleidoscopic dungeon all around Erick. Even through his sunglasses the room was bright. And then it wasn’t. It was like he had walked indoors from the sun. A gentle, homey feeling overtook him. He smiled as he took off his glasses. The seven summoned Ophiel each put their spheres of matter back where they got them, or dismissed them back into the world. The one with the diamonds just stacked the seven balls in a heap on the floor, as all of them flashed down to parakeet-size and hovered over to Erick.  

Erick stood on the edge of a calm pool of water, as a gentle breeze flowed from above, and a dense feeling hung all around him. He moved his hand through the air. It didn’t shatter the air like how [Crystalline Air] broke at his touch. He just existed, and everything felt normal.  

All around Erick and the five meter wide pond, and another good seven meters outside of that pond in every direction, pressed against the ceiling and against the wavy ground, laid a density. A gravity, almost, but not quite. Outside of that density laid the dungeon, still kaleidoscopic bright and supremely radiant. Of the bright [Ward]s caught inside the effect, they were still bright, but they didn’t burn Erick’s eyes.

The Headmaster stood outside of that density, too, along with the light slimes. Those little balls of light were bouncing along, like before, though some of them bounced at the density, like hitting an invisible thing in the air, before they bounced right back to continue their play somewhere else. Streams of water flowed from outside the space, into the space, while air and mana swirled above, unimpeded.  

The Headmaster’s eyes were a bit wider than normal, but he said nothing. Instead, he looked to the air, like he was reading something.

Erick looked around, too. Where were his notifications? They didn’t usually take this long.  

The Headmaster frowned a little as he said, “Ah. That’s my fault. I was looking at the skill. Here—”

--

Prismatic Ward, instant, short range, permanent, Solid Ward, 100 MP + Variable

Create a solid, large space, that absorbs six times Variable damage before breaking.

Prismatic Ward regenerates integrity based on your Rested mana regeneration rate.

You and those you permit are able to operate within Prismatic Ward without restriction. You may grant or revoke this permission at will.

All beings permitted inside Prismatic Ward are at Rest while inside.

You may only have one Solid Ward active at a time.

--

Choose which Solid Ward to keep:

Prismatic Ward

OR

Crystalline Air

--

Erick was a little sad to lose the ‘You may increase or decrease the size of your Solid Ward for an increase or decrease in Variable cost’ of [Crystalline Air], but he readily chose [Prismatic Ward]. The ability to deny [Teleport]s of all kinds, not just the [Teleport] spell, was too good to pass up; you couldn’t blip into a space already occupied by an object, after all. He gave a sad smile and a deep, deep ‘thank you’ to [Crystalline Air] as he felt it break apart inside of his soul, or his link to the mana through the Script, or wherever was that odd space inside of him where the spells actually resided.  

The Headmaster said, “That is a remarkably good version of the spell. Do you mind if I give that rhyme and method to others who I hold in confidence?”

“I didn’t even know anyone could intercept notifications.”

“Ah.” The Headmaster said, “I usually do not, but this one came through the Script like a charging wyrm.” He added, “I’m technically a Registrar but only because I am Second to Rozeta.” He suddenly looked to the side. He looked back to Erick, saying, “This was a treat to witness, but I must go.” He said, “I will send Krigea to you later. I am very interested in procuring an actual light slime dungeon. If you are interested in a further bargain of trade for such a thing, I am willing to discuss terms. Whatever the case, I do think you should get both [Lightwalk] and [Shadowalk]. Separately, they are not that great for killing or escaping from Shades, but together they are wonderful. Like two halves of a coin. Of course, the other Four Elements taken together are similarly useful—” He looked to the air again. He said, “I must go.”

The Headmaster vanished in a blip of gold light.

Erick sighed out into the air. He watched as seven Ophiel played together, moving in and out of the [Prismatic Ward] without disturbing the space at all. After a few moments of just resting, feeling his mana refill, he set to putting his dungeon back to rights. [Stoneshape] remade floors and plumbing rather quickly. When the pool was back to the endpoint of the water stream curling around the room, and the pipes were back to thier proper positions, Erick looked down at the nearest light slime, bumbling against the edge of his [Prismatic Ward].

Did he need a [Lightwalk]? Jane seemed to think he did, and so did the Headmaster. According to both of them, he needed [Shadowalk], too. But these slimes were just too cute.  

...It wasn’t a decision he had to make today, anyway. For now, it was time to go home! Erick dismissed six of his seven Ophiel, then blipped back to Windy Manor.  

He mostly ignored the nagging feeling eating at his gut that the Headmaster had done something to his [Prismatic Ward].

- - - -

Erick returned to Windy Manor in a blip of white light with Ophiel on his shoulder. The sun came down from the east, barely peeking over the tall trees around the manor. Poi waited for him on a bench on the lawn in front of the large western windows. The sapphire scaled guard immediately stood up as Erick appeared, his face tense. But he relaxed as recognition set in.  

“Hey, Poi.” Erick asked, “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Poi added, “Nothing. Glad to see you’re okay.”

Erick smiled. He teased, “I’m glad to see you care so much.”

Poi deadpanned, “I care about my ride back home.”

Erick laughed. Poi cracked a grin.  

Kiri rushed out of the front door, saying, “Oh thank the gods. When the [Crystalline Air] went down we all started to panic.”

“Ah!” Erick said, “I have a reason for that. Here.” Erick materialized two blue boxes of [Prismatic Ward] and tossed them to Kiri and Poi.  

Poi casually caught his box, but Kiri’s eyes went wide as she snatched hers out of the air. Poi read the box and dismissed it as he gently sighed out into the early morning sky.

Kiri shouted, “Holy gods.” She read the box again. She laughed.

Erick quickly gave permissions to Poi, Kiri, Teressa, Rats, Ophiel, and Jane, as he looked past them, to the house. He lined up his new spell then spent an extra 500 mana to Extremely Shape a 3500 point [Prismatic Ward] across the whole of Windy Manor; over the exposed wooden exterior and massive western windows, past the roof and into the ground an extra meter. The air around the manor shifted in some dense way, showing as a slight bend around the edges of the protected space, but nothing when viewed straight on. As the spell settled in, Windy Manor seemed a bit dimmer, and a bit brighter. Warmer yet cool.  

Erick had originally considered [Prismatic Ward] to be some flashy thing, a brightness and a darkness and everything else all rolled up in one, similar to the fractal crash of [Crystalline Air], but more. That idea had shifted as time went on, for the base idea of [Prismatic Ward] was to protect, to nurture, to ensure survival. Survival was not flashy, or at least it wasn’t flashy for Erick, or for Hocnihai.  

Reading that man’s journals had helped Erick in many ways to achieve what he had achieved today. Erick barely understood all the math in all those pages, but he understood the need for a place to call home. That’s all that Hocnihai was looking for, after all, from the Greensoil Republic to the Wasteland Kingdoms, he had been betrayed and hurt on all sides but he had eventually found a place of his own.  

As Erick watched [Prismatic Ward] fill Windy Manor, he knew that Oceanside was not his home, but it was good enough for now.  

As Kiri watched the spell take hold her eyes went wide and a tiny squeal escaped her lips. When the spell finished, she rushed to the Manor’s entrance, to touch the solid air hanging across the open space. Her hand moved through the dense space without interruption. The air did not fracture like with [Crystalline Air]; it didn’t seem to do anything at all. Kiri rushed into the house, laughing as she moved.  

Poi watched the house, asking, “A permanent spell?”

Erick said, “I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s nice, right?”

“It’s something.”

Erick smirked. He said, “You know… I haven’t added ‘air’ or ‘water’ to the permissions, but water flows through the space anyway. You can breathe, even though it’s solid.” He added, “This is exactly what I imagined when I cast.”

Poi said, “Have you already given me permissions?”

“Of course!”

“Remove them for a moment.”

“… Okay?” Erick removed Poi from [Prismatic Ward]s permissions. “Done.”

Poi nodded, then blipped blue. He did not move, though. He just blipped in place. He hummed. He said, “It denies [Teleport] exactly how we all thought it would. Now… for this...” Tendrils of thought extended from his sapphire head. “That’s not blocked, so that’s good.” He turned to Erick. “Done. Please reinstate my permissions.”

Erick did so, then said, “We’ll still get messages if Spur needs us, then?”

“Yup.” Poi said, “That is exactly what I was testing.”

Kiri rushed out of the house, her emerald eyes glittering as she said, “This is amazing!” She exclaimed, “And it’s permanent! That’s crazy! Magic is supposed to degrade but this doesn’t! How did you even do that?”

Erick smiled. Now was a good a time as any to share his ideas with Kiri. He said, “I think it might decay all the time, but it also regenerates all the time, like how a Grand-[Prestidigitation] stove or a Permanent [Special Ward] recovers over time.”

Kiri stopped in her steps. She said, “Okay?”

Erick walked toward the house, saying, “I have this theory about [Renew] already being a part of [Ward]. The Headmaster spoke about how a Permanent [Special Ward] was more like how [Mend] returns an object back to its remembered state, so I’ll have to research that some more. You can help, but first, let me lay out my ideas and you can have at them, too.”

Kiri frowned a little, but said, “Okay?”

In the comfort of the house, Erick spoke of his [Renew] ideas. Kiri mostly listened. She was willing to accept his reasoning, but surely someone else would have tapped into this possibility before him, right?

“I think we need to research [Mend] more,” Kiri finally said. “I don’t know nearly enough about this spell.”

Erick said, “I agree. But we’ve got time, and lots of stuff to do besides.”

Kiri’s eyes blazed emerald as she smiled, saying, “We do, don’t we.”

- - - -

Erick stood beside his wooden desk, looking over a dozen books that laid scattered across the various surfaces of his room, while Ophiel sat on a perch by an open window. A gentle breeze flowed across the winged [Familiar]; he was in his preferred position for when Erick was working in his office.  

Kiri had taken Erick’s idea of [Renew] being inside [Ward] and run off on her own to investigate; her eyes alight with passion. But for Erick, it was back to studying. He might not have gotten far with [Gate], but he was doing well with enchanting despite the math and diagrams and rigidity of the discipline. The dozen books set around him now were all the most well respected books on the subject, each holding clues and rhymes and the runes of all the most common spells. One of the books was a complete breakdown of [Prestidigitation], stretched out to 500 pages of text and pictures that detailed everything known about this most complicated, most basic spell.  

The sheer volume of magical effects produced by [Prestidigitation] was worthy of a few thousand pages of in-depth study, but this smaller tome was a perfect primer on the subject.  

Thanks to these books, Erick was now able to enchant any of his normal spells into rods or wands as needed. He could enchant [Prestidigitation] into knives to make them sharper, too, or make a stove that never ran out of fire or power. He even made a hat that he could pull a ‘rabbit’ out of. It was a ‘rabbit’ made of fuzz and nothing that instantly puffed away as soon as it was released, but it was still a fun little effect to enchant into a hat.

Needles that sewed fabrics together on their own. Needles that sewed lace on their own. Cards that shuffled themselves. Cups that always kept their contents cold, or hot. Gems that turned the wearer’s clothes sparkly. Salt shakers that added salt flavor without actually using salt. [Prestidigitation] was quite fun. Erick had learned a lot trying to form that spell into the desired enchanted effect.  

But enchanting a staff with an aura was quite another endeavor entirely. This was yet another of his goals in coming to Oceanside. A Staff of Withering Domain was a bomb he did not want to create, not right now, but there was another spell in his arsenal that also needed to be made for others to use. A Staff of the Exalted Storm. But there were problems. A lot of problems.  

Firstly, it was damned expensive, and Erick was already running low on supplies. Each try for a staff of [Exalted Storm Aura] took a full grand rad. Secondly, his first five forays into enchanting such a thing leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, their metal shafts blackened and twisted, while the diamond orbs on top were broken, cracked things. Erick left them like that instead of [Mend]ing them back to metal ingots and perfect spheres because how the magic failed to take hold was supposed to tell him how the enchanting failed. Hence the books all around him.  

Erick read over auras and mathemagics, he poured over diagrams and energy rates. He studied pictures of staffs and how enchants failed, trying to figure out what was wrong with his methods.  

He Handy Aura’d one of the less twisted staffs into his hand. The gem on top was cracked in a spreading spiderweb pattern, while the staff itself was simply blackened and pitted. He Handy Aura’d through three different books, looking for the answer.  

According to this book—

Poi stepped into the open doorway, saying, “Sir. A monster approaches Spur.”

“Okay.” With a hundred Handy hands Erick rapidly set book marks into his books, closing them but leaving them where they were, while he set the broken staff back into the corner of the room. He summoned five Ophiel and began sending them across the ocean, saying, “It’s almost time for the rains, anyway.” He asked, “What kind of monster?”

Poi stood tall and said, “It’s the Flare Couatl.”

A sudden, bone deep, dead tired emotion washed through Erick’s entire body, settling into his chest and behind his eyes. He blinked long, simultaneously halting Ophiel’s procession to Spur as he said, “Monsterified?”

Poi said, “Initial reports are inconclusive, but disturbing. He attacked some rookies training outside the city but they managed to escape. Now, he’s hovering outside the walls, demanding that the rookies who escaped be released to his custody. That was five minutes ago. He vanished when Silverite said no, but promised to be back after he gathered enough hostages to force a trade.”

“Silverite would never trade hostages.”

Somewhere outside of Erick’s office, a chair slid across the floor. Footsteps drew near.  

“Exactly, sir.” Poi said, “But there’s another problem. The creature is asking for you, personally.”

Erick groaned, mostly silently.  

Kiri stepped to Poi’s side, watching.

“Okay.” Erick nudged Ophiel to continue on to Spur, as he said, “I need to be there in person.”

“If you wish, sir.” Poi said, “I’m ready when you are.”

Kiri offered, “You just summoned your Ophiel, right? I’ll take us all to Spur.”  

Erick had worked out a system for Ophiel to expend the least amount of mana to [Teleport] to Spur, where a few of them took most of them toward the end and then blipped backward, back into position. But they still ran through 250 to 750 mana each blip; it added up. And there was no room in Erick’s system for them to come back and take him and Poi along for the ride.  

“Sure,” Erick said. “That works. Thank you, Kiri.”

Kiri turned around, toward the balcony that ringed the central airspace of the house. She cast into the open air, conjuring a disk of swirling green Force inscribed with an innate circular [Teleport] rune. Kiri’s [Teleporting Platform] was modeled after Erick’s, though she went for [Airshape] instead of [Stoneshape]. Air was everywhere, after all. Stone was not omnipresent; there was barely any stone inside of Windy Manor. Kiri hopped over the balcony, landing on her platform. She turned to Erick and Poi, waiting for them to join her. Poi went first, over the balcony rail, onto the platform. Erick followed.  

Erick asked, “Did you talk to Teressa and Rats, Poi?”

“They know we’re going.” Poi said, “Whenever you’re ready, Kiri.”

Kiri answered in a crash of green light, blipping the three of them a thousand kilometers northwest, over the ocean. They continued to blip across the wide, wide waters, under Kiri’s power, across prairies and over mountains. Soon enough, they appeared above an endless tan desert where sunlight caught on endless crystal agaves and mimics.  

They continued on, to Spur.

- - - -

Kiri blipped her platform into the air just outside of the house, in orange Human District of Spur. Seven tiny Ophiel hovered above the roof of the house, while a small crowd had already gathered on the grounds below, in anticipation of Erick’s arrival.  

The two orcol guards who Silverite had watching over his house, Turock and Veel, stood to the side, near lemon trees of the garden. Jane stood by the door. Erick locked sight on his daughter, and though Silverite and Mog were also nearby, he instantly hopped off Kiri’s platform and rushed to Jane, to wrap his daughter in a hug.  

Jane chuckled over his shoulder as she hugged him back, saying, “Good to see you too, Dad.” She let go, whispering, “But there’s a crisis.”

Erick let go of Jane, saying, “Right, right.” He looked his daughter over a little, making sure she was really okay. She was, as far as Erick could see. Same brown hair clipped behind her head, same brown eyes, same wry smile. So Erick nodded, then turned to Silverite, asking, “What’s the score?”

He hadn’t seen Silverite in almost two months. She was the same pure silver wrought in the shape of a dragonkin as before. Silverite was the only wrought Erick ever knew who wore clothes. Today, she wore a nice, simple white dress, with a few frills on the arms and hem. Her face was a harsh thing, though.  

Silverite said, “The Flare Couatl is still a person, but this does not matter anymore. He has decided to gather up adventurers from outside the city and bring them here, to try and force my hand into giving up those who he already tried to kill.” She looked to Mog. “Mog?”

Mog was the same massive pale-green woman that Erick had always known, with huge muscles and short black hair. She wore her leathers today; normal brown. They might have been her conjured armor, or not. Erick had learned a small secret in the past month: Mog could freely change the color of her magic. She was happy with people not knowing what her magical effects looked like; she liked catching people offguard. She was not happy right now, though.

Mog frowned, saying, “In the last week we have had three unsubstantiated reports from two different parties that the Flare Couatl tried to kill them while they were out hunting mimics. The one team that reported twice never came back from their latest hunt. That was two days ago. And now we have this.”

Erick felt a flush of anger at himself. He asked, “Has any Cinnabar Hand been found in Spur?”

Silverite stared at Erick with hard, completely silver eyes. She said, “Yes.”

Erick inhaled sharply, then said, “What? Really?”

“Yes.” Silverite said, “Two of them, two weeks ago.”

“… Anyone I know?”

“I don’t think so.” Silverite said, “I need that Flare Couatl dead, Erick. It has killed thousands of hunters since it appeared but I fear it is be running out of targets. It’s also gotten too big. It’s an actual threat to Spur. Merit and Killzone are standing by for this confrontation, as are the other archmages of Spur. They will not move unless—”

The sky cracked with power, like a far away thunderstorm announcing its presence. Red bled across the roof of the world; a mist of blood and hatred and magic.

Mog said, “It’s back.”  

All seven Ophiel held still in the crimson air, their bodies slowly expanding to their full size. Eyes opened up across their flowing wings as they silently gazed north. Erick watched the sky with them, as the entire city of Spur witnessed the Flare Couatl appear in the sky beyond the northern wall.  

Erick felt his blood go cold as his heart beat hard.

The Flare Couatl lazed in the air like an impossibly large sea snake, matching the city walls for width and dwarfing every wyrm that Erick had ever seen. Two hundred meters long, three hundred? Erick didn’t know. The Flare Couatl was a lot bigger than Erick remembered. Blood red scales glittered in the red sunlight, flickering with power, while multiple sets of bright red wings flowed down his back, from behind his massive blunt nose, to his long tapered tail.  

He spoke, quietly but pervasively, his voice carrying through the city, “I am ready for a trade. I also wish to speak to Erick Flatt. Please do not deny me this simple request.”

Erick quickly asked Silverite, “The people he wants— They’re not impostors, right?”

“They are not.” Silverite said, “If you can’t fight it, get it to leave.”

Jane stepped toward the Flare Couatl, but caught herself before she took a second step. She winced. She said, “Fuck.” She whispered, “Shit. I can’t be out here.” She looked to Silverite, saying, “I can’t help. Don’t make me.”

Silverite said, “Then cower in your home like the rest of those who need protection.”

Jane locked up for the briefest of moments, staring daggers at Silverite. She quickly came out of it, nodding. She rushed back into the house, closing the door behind her. Erick stared at that door for a hot second.  

Erick looked back toward the Flare Couatl. He took into the air on his Handy Aura, saying, “I’ll see what I can do to get him to leave.”

It took mere moments to fly over the stone buildings of Spur, to reach the wall. It took less than that for the Flare Couatl to notice Erick flying his way, flanked by seven now-tiny Ophiel. Erick set down on a flat stone tower next to the northern city gates. The Flare Couatl hung in the red sky in front of him, radiating a heat that failed to reach Erick, but that Erick still felt on his skin like a sunburn starting.  

The series of events for Erick to get to this point almost caused him to wander off into thought in an attempt to escape this current situation, but he remained in the present. He spoke to the Flare Couatl, using [Prestidigitation] to increase his voice a little, “Greetings! I heard you were looking for me!”

The Flare Couatl watched Erick, his eyes blazing like miniature suns. Erick felt his stare like the stare of a killer, deciding how best to proceed with the killing. But he did not draw closer to Erick. The Flare Couatl just hung in the sky, watching. Thinking, maybe? Erick wasn’t sure.

The Flare Couatl said, “You are Erick Flatt.”

“For my whole life, so far!”

“I wish to know if you have discovered how to [Scan] through the problems of [Polymorph].”

“I have done some research on the subject in my time at arcanaeum, and I don’t think what you want is possible.”

This was not a lie. He had done some research, but reading a few books on [Scan] and making the spell that Messalina wanted were entirely different beasts. No matter his ideas on DNA, or mitochondria, or whatever possible unique bacteria might inhabit the people of Veird, making such a spell would prove the death of him. So Erick didn’t plumb the depths of [Scan] magic too deeply. At least not yet.  

Besides, if Erick were to make such a spell, it would be Particle Mage Only, and thus useless for Messalina’s needs. Erick might not have a major problem with her using soul magic to move willing participants into other bodies, but there was absolutely no way that he would ever work with her. She was still a mass murderer, even if you discounted all of her soulwork.

Researching [Scan] was not the only bit of magical history that Erick had looked into. He had also looked into Messalina. The Life Binder, as she was known to most of the world, was a story told to children to scare them into being good, and also a real person, responsible for the deaths of thousands of people, all because of some unknown reason; some schism that happened between her and the Headmaster, centuries ago.  

The Flare Couatl watched Erick with eyes of fire. His mouth opened just a tiny bit, then closed. He spoke without moving, “Then I must continue my work the hard way.” He added, “I know I said that I would bring back some hostages to trade for those that got away, but this was me speaking out of turn. I will not do this if you can tell me that those who escaped my wrath were not hunters.”

Erick honestly said, “As far as I know, and as far as Silverite and the people here have told me, the people you seek are not impostors. If they are hunters, then it is up to the laws of Spur to decide their fates. They are in our custody until such a decision is reached.”

The Flare Couatl shivered in the sky, his wings flickering as he gently undulated.  

Erick continued, “Thank you for what you have done to search out the Cinnabar Hand and to rid the Crystal Forest of those who would kill without care for the damage they do. I wish you the best of luck in finding your true quarry.”

The Flare Couatl slipped left and right, just a little. His eyes stared down at Erick. He said, “They are hunters. Every single person in that group. In due course you will divine what I already know, and you will pass down the same judgment I would have passed. That you take more time to come to my conclusion is of no consequence to me.”

The air singed red. The Flare Couatl was gone, just like that.  

Here one moment, gone the next.  

Erick almost collapsed to his knees. He held himself upright for one brief moment, before blipping back home. As he appeared in front of Silverite and Mog, Erick muttered, “Fuck, he got big.”

Mog nodded, silently.

Ophiel, all seven of him, winged through the sky, quickly coming back to Erick.

Silverite said, “Do you have a spell that can kill him without destroying Spur in the process?”

“… No.” Erick corrected himself, saying, “Maybe.” He added, “I might, tomorrow. I need to level some things. Fire’s not very useful against Flare Snakes, right?”

Mog said, “It works, but not well.”

Silverite said, “You should figure out what you need to figure out, Erick.” She pointed to the empty, red northern sky, where the crimson glow of the Flare Couatl slowly left the air. “That Flare Couatl is talking to everyone. Not just you. His discipline is gone, Erick. Maybe he’s not turning into a monster, but what he is turning into is something much worse: a dragon without the need for a cover. A dragon turning erratic.”

Erick asked, “Then shouldn’t someone like the Headmaster come kill him? Isn’t that how this works with dragons?”

Silverite’s eyes went wide. “I don’t want a fight like that within five [Teleport]s of Spur, and neither do you.” She spat, “And those people the Couatl chased off were not hunters, either.” She seemed to deflate as she said, “They were just adventurers, Erick. Nothing more, nothing less. They got in a spat out there and started fighting each other. To hear them tell it, it wasn’t even a serious fight.”

Erick felt yet another flicker of unwellness pass through his body. He forced that feeling down into obscurity. Erick steeled himself, then said, “Okay. I get what you’re saying. He needs to die.”

Silverite said, “What do you have to use against the Couatl besides fire. Tell me if I need to call someone else.”

“… I’m going to go out and work on it right now.” Erick said, “I will do what I can for Spur and for the people here, Silverite.”

Mog, Kiri, Poi, and the two guards stationed at Erick’s house, just watched, silently. 

Red fainted from the sky as the world slowly transitioned back to blue skies and orange stone.  

“Fine.” Silverite blinked long. She eventually said, “Good. Thank you.” She breathed deep, then asked, “Are you going to stick around for the night? If so, there’s some—”

The sky flickered red. All seven tiny Ophiel whined loud as they hovered next to Erick, hiding against his sides.  

Erick whipped around to the north, but the bloody stain in the sky spread out from directly around his house. The Flare Couatl materialized above and in every direction, all at once, like an incandescent snake coiling around the Human District. The Flare Couatl’s head appeared around the garden like any number of wyrms Erick had ever fought, but unlike all those wyrms, an intelligence laid inside this creature’s eyes. The air turned radiant, hot, and deadly. Lemon trees burst into flame. The ground scorched into glass. One of the two orcol guards puffed away, going from flesh to bone to dust in a flashing second. Erick’s skin burned as his own [Personal Ward] went cracking bright white.

Erick reacted through Ophiel faster than he could react on his own. Ophiel cast a rapid fire [Endless Plasma Wrap] out of three of his bodies, layering white fire around the red serpent, as another tiny Ophiel wrapped a [Prismatic Ward] around Erick, catching several of the nearby people in the [Solid Ward]. Erick simultaneously granted everyone around him permissions.

The Flare Couatl vanished again in a smattering of red.  

The entire event had taken a single second.

Poi fell to the ground, bleeding from his eyes and ears. Kiri blasted the empty space where the Flare Couatl had been. Mog rushed into that same space, heedless of Kiri’s fire, slashing at the air with a cleaver twice her own size, hitting nothing. Silverite pulsed silver, rushing to Poi.

A chaotic fraction of a second turned into yelling moments as Jane appeared beside Poi, her hand glowing dark blue. Everyone yelled at everyone else. Silverite frowned at the dead, burned body of Turock. Veel was nothing more than ash on the hot wind.

All Erick could do was ask, “What?”

Poi’s voice cut into the noise, as he said, “I chased it away, but not for long. It’s barely a person anymore.” He winced as he said, “Mayor. This is going to get rough.”

Jane was suddenly by Erick’s side, slapping him with a glowing blue hand, saying, “Wake the FUCK up, dad.” She demanded, “Are you here, now?”

Erick came back to himself. He said, “Yeah. Yeah. Jane. I’m here. Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened.” He added, “I tagged him with [Endless Plasma Wrap] but— I don’t know.”

Silverite helped Poi to stand. Kiri blanched, a dozen emotions crossing her panicked face, her green scales turning a shade lighter. With a quick motion, she smothered the flames burning against the stone.

The garden was completely gone. The Flare Couatl had flashed wood and fruit and vines to ash.

In the distance, all across the city, a warning siren began to blare; a chorus hailing an oncoming death. Erick opened his senses wide, turning on [Perfect Hearing] and [Ultrasight], trying to—

Now was not the time to be stingy with his points. That Flare Couatl was coming back, and he had no time to try and combine a proper physical skill. He would have to do like Jane did. Erick just bought the damn parts, and then the final skill, spending 3 points to do so. This was why people saved points, after all.  

And then he went and Favored it, too.

--

Tracker’s Instinct, 1 HP per second

Hunt clearly.

--

Lightfoot, 2 HP per second

Move quick and silent

--

Hunter’s Instincts, 10 HP per second ~{Favored Ability}~

You are the predator.

--

Like daughter, like father.

Jane said, “All that training helped, but we’re not out of the fire, dad.”

Erick nodded. He took stock of his current situation. [Hunters Instincts] flared, providing him with enough focus to fully consider the lay of the battlefield.  

The [Prismatic Ward] that the first Ophiel had provided, as the Flare Couatl appeared in the Human District, was gone. That Ophiel was down to less than a hundred mana and barely able to fly. The others were all down to maybe half-mana. Erick dismissed the hundred mana Ophiel. He summoned three more. Erick was back down to low mana himself, but he was up to nine Ophiel.

Erick had a freshly summoned Ophiel spend his entire self to erect a new [Prismatic Ward] across the house. Erick was back down to 8 [Familiar]s.

Erick pointed at his house, [Hunter’s Instincts] still active. He said, “It’s a [Prismatic Ward]. It should be about 50,000 points of defense. We can Rest inside.” He looked to Jane, demanding, “Jane. I just got [Hunter’s Instincts]. You go inside. This is not your fight.”

Jane went from looking eager to fight, to visibly shaking, her words trapped in her throat. She did not look at her father as she silently turned and walked back into the house.  

Erick’s eyes went wide as he watched her go. He did not expect that to work. He Handy Aura’d up, into the air, saying, “I’m going to stand up on my tower and kill it when it appears.”

Mog said, “I’ll wait with you.” She blipped up to the flat surface of his mage tower, fifteen meters off the ground, landing inside a bubble of [Prismatic Ward] that extended up from the tower. She called down at him, “It’ll be back soon.”

Silverite hauled a half-conscious Poi toward the house, following Jane into the front door.

Erick landed beside Mog, saying, “I made a mistake, Mog. I should not have allowed it to get the drop on us like that. I should have attacked it out there. I should have trusted Silverite’s judgment. I should have listened to you.”

Mog kept her eyes on the sky, watching for the return of red as, she said, “Yup.”

Kiri landed beside Erick and Mog, asking, “How many Wraps were you able to cast?”

“Three.” Erick added, “From Ophiel, so the effect is less.”

 Erick flared [Hunter’s Instincts], and the world shifted. As Health drained, time seemed to slow.  

He watched people running to hide indoors, all the way on the other side of the empty expanse of the flat Human District. He saw the glassy stretches of orange stone that ringed his house like a moat. His gardens were gone. The Mage Trio’s house was scorched; Erick hoped they were okay, or not at home. He heard the sirens blaring out their warning all across Spur, but he also heard Poi talking to Silverite in the house below, and Jane roaring at a wall, impotent and hating every second of her torture. He felt his body like it was a tool to use to bring about the destruction of his enemies, and right now the enemy was—

The sky blinked red. Erick simultaneously demanded his highest-mana Ophiel to cast another [Prismatic Ward] right across the top of the tower, right on top of Erick, Mog, and Kiri. An Ophiel disintegrated; spent. 7 left.

The Flare Couatl appeared all around the Human District, scorching the orange stone. His eyes blazed as his mouth opened a dozen meters wide, revealing tower-sized fangs and an endless, incandescent gullet that poured heat across the house like a blowtorch.  

The dense air around Erick, Kiri, and Mog, flexed, but did not break; it would not last forever.

Erick demanded another Ophiel expend himself, casting another [Prismatic Ward] into that gaping mouth. As soon as the calm, dense space appeared, interrupting the torch, the remaining Ophiel [Blink]ed into that space, each of them rapidly casting more and more [Endless Plasma Wrap]s into the glowing insides of the Flare Couatl, wrapping the beast in white, fiery light.

Radiance flickered across the creature’s red scales, brighter than the beast’s own fire, burning bright even in red sunlight.

The Flare Couatl tried to recoil, but his fangs caught on the [Prismatic Ward]. He chomped down; equally unable to break the [Prismatic Ward]. His body flickered behind Erick, on the other side of the house, slamming against the [Prismatic Ward] around him like an ineffectual avalanche.  

Ophiel called clouds and lightning from the near sky, but the Flare Couatl flared harder, cracking the dense air around Erick and around the house as his rising heat cut through the spell above.  

Erick cast a [Wintry Sea] into the Flare Couatl.  

About three seconds had passed since the attack began. Mog had yet to move; she was waiting for an opening. Kiri cast spell after spell at the red creature, but the Flare Couatl didn’t seem to care about her fire. He didn’t seem to care about Erick’s fire, either.  

But as blue light tore into the red snake, he cared about that, very much.  

He roared, loud and hot, breaking the [Prismatic Ward] in his mouth, igniting the sky, as blue light crawled into—

The Flare Couatl blipped up, then left, then right, each time moving thousands of tons of its own body, trying to get away from the blue light. But the blue light stuck with the red snake, crawling through his entire length, diving in and out of the two hundred meter long beast as white fire continued to crawl over his scales. Where the blue light touched, the snake's skin cracked like broken ice on a frozen pond. When the blue light passed, blood soaked out of the Flare Couatl.

Erick said, “I could cast more [Wintry Sea]s, but it’s dangerous.”

“Don’t do any more,” Mog said. “Backup is already coming.”

As Mog spoke, a bolt of black, long and sinuous, half the size of the Flare Couatl, rocketed out of the west, tearing over Spur like a bullet from a very, very large gun. It was not a wyrm, though it looked like one, because it was a dragon. Black, long, wingless and in complete control of itself, the dragon ripped through the Flare Couatl with some long bladed spell.  

“Mine!” roared the black dragon. “Mine!”

Thirty meters of the Flare Couatl’s tail fell like a whale thrown from the sky. It crashed into the wall of Spur, breaking it as itself broke into meat and blood. The Flare Couatl screamed as the dragon roared, whipping back onto the snake, black claws and black legs grabbing and tearing into the glowing white surface of the red beast.  

Blood splashed across the Human District, striking stone and turning into pools of fire, as the black dragon fought the red feathered snake in the skies above. It was a one-sided battle. The dragon tore the snake apart, ripping off feathers, pulling it from the sky. In under ten seconds, the dragon cracked the snake across the walls of Spur.  

The snake went limp as its fires died, and the white glow around its body faded. The blue glow attached to the snake transferred to the dragon, but the dragon simply flickered black, and the blue glow died, too.  

Erick got a notification for killing the Flare Couatl, but he ignored that notification for now because the dragon did not stop its assault, and he had not gained a level. The dragon tore into the red flesh of the feathered snake, ripping scales apart from wings, tearing skin from fiery meat. The dragon’s fangs flashed bright white as it ate its opponent like a starved man at a banquet. The very walls of Spur shifted into knives, turning into cleavers under the direction of the black dragon.  

Cleavers the size of houses chopped down through the red snake, carving it up.  

The dragon dove into the snake’s chest, digging out the heart, consuming the organ. It moved on to the head. Chop chop went stone cleavers. The dragon opened the skull, and ate the brain in five quick, messy gulps.  

Kiri puked off the side of the tower.  

Mog just stared at the feasting dragon, wide eyed.  

Erick asked, “Should we be worried, Mog?”

Mog kept staring, as she said, “… No. Probably not. This is just… Rather intense. I knew we had a dragon on staff, but… I didn’t really know, you know.”

Erick watched the feast, saying, “No. I don’t really know. But if you didn’t know either I don’t feel so bad.”

Mog chuckled, or at least tried to. It was a nervous sound that cut quickly. Soon, the only thing Erick could hear was the munch crunch of a dragon devouring its enemy.  

The black dragon paused for a moment, its entire body covered in gore and meat. It looked up. It turned toward Erick. A few hundred meters separated them, but they locked eyes for the briefest of moments.

The dragon, and what was left of the Flare Couatl, blipped away in a shattering of black light.

Then Erick puked. At least this time he held it in until the battle was over.  

- - - -

Erick Flatt

Human, age 48

Level 65, Class: Particle Mage

Exp: 1,597,236,147,954,331/2,777,789,003,528,800  

Class: 6/6

Points: 4

HP 615/1200 ----- 1200 per day

MP 549/5100 ----- 20,400 per day

Strength 20 / +20 / [40]

Vitality 20 / +20 / [40]

Willpower 65 / +20 / [85]

Focus 65 / +20 / [85]

Favored Spell waiting!

Favored Ability waiting!

Favored Ability waiting!

Favored Ability waiting!