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The sun dipped down in the west, tinting the world in reds and golds, as a cold wind blew from the north. Tonight would be chilly, but almost every person out here on the dark, multicolored streets of Candlepoint was either bundled up against the cold, with subtly glowing [Conjure Armor]s providing both warmth and defense, or [Ward]s that provided much the same. The shadelings, though, they wore rags. Erick wasn’t sure if the cold didn’t bother them, but that was a possibility.  

Except for the shadelings, nobody walked this Shade city without some form of protection active and highly visible; this was certainly not Spur, where a simple [Ward] or a tough piece of leather was expected. Everyone seemed both ready and waiting for something to happen, but also calmly avoiding outright violence as they rushed to wherever they had to be, without outright running.

That might have been why the architects of Candlepoint had draped the city in colored lights. To detract from the magic and dangers of the crowd? To make Candlepoint look more festive, and less deadly? To liven up the mostly silent atmosphere?  

Or maybe Bulgan just liked pretty lights?

Eh. It was probably a joke of some sort; a play at happy colors hiding utmost violence. Jane had spoken of stuff like that in Ar’Kendrithyst.  

Ophiel and Erick’s shadeling guide, Justine, headed north on a wide, black road, large enough for ten people to walk hand in hand and not touch the buildings on either side. The road did not need to be this wide. There were a lot of people out here, sure, but not enough to fill this large space. Maybe it was built this way so that no one had to walk too close to anyone else.   

Most everyone gave Ophiel and Justine a wide berth, without making it too obvious. But the same was true for every small group Erick saw. Everyone walked in loose knit groups well separated from each other. No one walked alone.  

As a pair of orcols eyed Ophiel, and a trio of shadelings eyed from Ophiel, to the orcols, and both parties parted ways like anyone would on a crowded New York Street, but also completely not, Erick knew he was unprepared for the obvious possibility of violence. Strictly speaking, he did not need to worry about Ophiel getting shanked, or anything like that, but allowing such a thing to happen at all could be seen as weakness. So Erick listened with [Hunter’s Instinct]s, but did not turn on Ophiel’s own [Hunter’s Instincts]. Using his ability this way would be subdued, but he didn’t want to Ophiel to shift his display to hard feathers and slitted eyes, and further incite the people around him. He did turn on Ophiel’s [Perfect Hearing], though.

The silence of the street turned into whispered murmurs of grumbling stomachs and someone a street away demanding food and the tiny tinkling of rads in pockets of shadelings, while everyone else made little to no sounds. Leather creaked. Metal scraped. People yelled quiet threats well out of sight, but not out of earshot. A hand tensed around the hilt of a sword.  

But nothing happened. Nothing that Erick could see, anyway. He might have heard the squelch of a dagger plunged into flesh, but that could have been any number of sexual sounds.

Nothing visible happened, the whole way to the Garrison.  

Erick certainly noticed the skinny shadelings, though. Most of them wore normal clothes, if a bit messy, but some of them wandered on the street, with wide, blank grey eyes, staring at the heavens while their tattered clothes dragged across the ground. Others played with knives in the shadowed recesses of the alleyways near the main road, tossing their glinting shards of metal into the air and catching the handle, or drawing them across their skin to spill red blood into the darkness like it was some arcane rite. Not a single native looked healthy. Even Justine, with her white countenance and grey robes, looked haggard, like she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in weeks.  

Her Status said she was 98, but Candlepoint itself was only a few weeks old. Maybe Justine had been working in Ar’Kendrithyst for a long time, already? Or maybe something else was going on.  

Whatever the case, there, Erick and Justine made it to the Garrison.  

The Garrison was a giant of a building at least three stories large, but that wasn’t so important. What was important, were the hungry and obviously desperate shadelings he saw in the shadows of the alleyways around the structure, and the large Garrison guards positioned by the door. They were giants of incani shadelings, with black armor, decked out with horns to rival their helmets and swords to rival their whole bodies.  

The guards seemed to be keeping the shadelings out, for they reacted to Justine’s approach, but did not seem to care when a pair of orcols walked in, and a trio of dragonkin walked out. But as they reacted to Justine, Erick saw that they were not shadelings at all. Glowing purple eyes stared out of a helmet full of shadows, while the armor of their arms showed clear separations between gloves and vambraces. They were summoned creatures of some sort. Similar to the Robes of Oceanside, perhaps?

Justine announced herself to the ‘guards’, breaking the silence of the street, “Justine Erholme, guiding Archmage Erick Flatt in his rounds of Candlepoint. Let me pass.”

The automatons spoke in unison, “Granted.”

The street returned to silence, as the automatons returned to stillness. Justine walked past them and up the short stairs into the Garrison. Erick followed.  

They must have passed a sound barrier of some sort, because the Garrison was louder than the street by a dozen fold. Recovering from the assault on his ears, Erick took stock of the place. It immediately reminded Erick of the Adventurer’s Guildhouse crossed with a casino of some sort. Everything was red or gold or black, except the lights; they were of every color mixed to white. Shadelings worked counters and served food at a bar on the floor above and—

They were playing cards over at that table. And dice over there. And other games that were almost like roulette, with their spinning wheels and bets placed on a table made of red and gold.

This place was a casino, but different. It had the monster board, of course; that was right over there at the back of the large, just like Erick had already seen once before. But there were parts of the place that were very much not standard ‘Adventurer’s Guildhouse’ fare. There were people turning in rads at an ornate, golden counter, and getting flecks of dark crystal in return; the ‘darkchips’, no doubt. Erick peered closer at one of the tables, using [Ultrasight], and saw that they were using those black chips to bet on their games. People paid for everything with darkchips; from the bar over there, to slipping the waiters and waitresses payments for drinks, to buying in at a gambling table. The rewards listed on the monster board were obviously pitiful compared to what someone could rake in with a lucky win.  

When had this all happened? Surely there wasn’t a casino here the last time Erick checked?

Justine waited for Erick to move further into the Garrison with her, but she did not look impatient. She just looked impassive; she was here for him, and maybe not of her own free will. She was likely a plant meant to… do something. Erick wasn’t sure.  

But before he got too far into that introspection, as he looked around, he saw a few familiar faces. They must have seen him first, though, because they were walking straight to him.  

Justine stepped to the side, out of the way, as his neighbors in the Human District walked closer; Maia, Eduard, and Ramizi, the Fire, Ice, and Force mage from Oceanside. All three of them were humans. Looking around at the casino floor, he noticed that there were other humans here, too, but not as much as those of other races.

Maia neared, saying, “Hello, arch—”

A table nearby erupted into joy, as someone won something and bright lights flashed. Loud cheers from the winner’s party were cut short by what came next. Erick did nothing as a single second stretched out into something else. The attack was not aimed at him, or anyone he knew.

A shadeling covered in rags and little else rushed into the building, flickering into the shadows, straight to a different shadeling that Erick had not really noticed. This second shadeling was obviously an employee of the Garrison, or something along those lines; they wore a nice ruby satin and gold pinstripe, almost-costume; like all the other employees of the place. But they also had a black-armored automaton at their back, guarding them, or more appropriately: what the employee was carrying. The employee had a gold box attached to his hip on a thick, solid gold belt. That object was made to not come off easily.

The ragged shadeling, and three others just like him that Erick had missed, rushed the man, while adventurers got out of the way and the automatons —three of them now; where had those come from?— brought their swords down like the hands of vengeful godlings.   

Three ragged shadelings scattered to the casino floor, bisected, blood fountaining across no one but empty tables; everyone near the event had moved faster than Erick would have thought possible. The fourth ragged shadeling managed to make it to the employee, wielding a summoned sword, but the employee stepped to the side, elegantly and effortlessly. The ragged shadeling missed his attempt to bisect the employee, and the slash of one automaton. Two automatons did not miss.

A torso went flying. Blood splashed. An arm landed near Ophiel.  

While Ophiel hung in the air, and Erick had no idea what had happened beyond the obvious, or why, some other employee called out from the other side of the room.  

“Pardon the interruption!” The shadeling was a gorgeous man from incani stock. He was lithe and tall, with dark hair and grey eyes, but he wore the most over the top red and gold sequined tuxedo Erick had ever seen, and he’d been to more than one Pride parade in his day. His outfit glowed, so did he, and so did his curling, bright, unnaturally red horns; they might have been lacquered to achieve that smoothness. The man said, “No one was hurt, so I hope everyone can continue living it up, at the Garrison!” He cheered, “Half price drinks for the next hour!”

A highly orchestrated display of magic and coordination resulted in drinks appearing on the trays of every serving guy and gal out on the casino floor. They started handing out bubbling pink beer steins and vibrant blue shots and glowing golden… gummy bears? No. Jello shots? Maybe. Whatever the case, the patrons took their drinks and gummies and were happy to have them.  

Fuck. Erick was really out of his depth. Everything looked normal, but it was an ‘uncanny valley’ sort of normal; a mimicking of things he recognized as normal in other parts of the world, but not here, in a near warzone.  

But as he turned back to the bodies on the floor, they were already gone. The man in the sequins had successfully distracted Erick, and most of everyone else, from the casual death of four starving and desperate shadelings. Or maybe Erick had read that wrong, and they were insane killers?  

While he struggled to come to terms with what he had witnessed, Maia, Eduard, and Ramizi, looked to be in a much better state than him. Maybe they were used to seeing bodies torn apart in front of them. Ramizi was even drinking a blue drink.  

Erick almost drifted away from Ophiel, back to his body in Spur, but Maia stepped one step closer. Erick returned to the moment.

Maia said, “Hello, Erick.”

“So many questions—” Erick jabbed at the drink in Ramizi’s hand with a feathered wing, whispering, “What the fuck are you drinking and why?” Then he pointed at the ground where the bodies had been, asking, “And what the shit was that?”

Ramizi said, “We’re the official ambassadors from Oceanside.” He held up the half drunken drink, saying, “We all go back to the island every day, and they check us over for a few hours. Drinking this drink is a part of the job.”

Eduard said, “Only one of us participates per day. Yesterday it was me.” He glanced to the ground where the bodies had been, adding, “And that was a normal occurrence.”

Maia said, “Pardon me, archmage, but we don’t get answers to a lot of our questions, but I know you would, so can you ask your guide here the same question?”

Erick turned his attention to Justine, who had stepped back from Ophiel and the Mage Trio. He asked, “What was… What were the ragged shadelings trying to do?”

With a clear voice, but still quiet under the noise of the casino room floor, Justine said, “There is a system in place where shadelings are given sustenance until they are able to regain some of who they were. When this first step is taken, we are ejected from the direct oversight of the Clergy, and sent out to regain the rest of ourselves on our own. At this time, our meals are taken from us. We need rads to survive, but we are not allowed to hunt monsters for rads. Instead, there is another system.

“We each get an allotment of two darkchips per day from the Crystal in the center of the city. Some of us spend these chips here, at the Garrison, and make enough rads to survive, though it is tough. Others collaborate to offer services such as prostitution or drugs or a bed for the night, or food at a restaurant; anything to attract customers into spending rads and taking our darkchips, so that we might survive another day.

“The Garrison makes the most rads of any of us, as they control a large portion of darkchips in order to pay adventurers for their rads, but you can get nearly any service out in the rest of the city, if you know where to look.  

“The only thing we are not allowed to offer are discounts. Master Shadoweater will know if we do, and the repercussions are… unwanted.”

After a long moment, Erick said, “Okay.”

And then he had nothing more to say. What could he say? That it was awful? That he wanted to help? He certainly wanted to help, but how could he, when they were probably lying about everything?

Maia frowned at Justine, then said to Erick, “That’s the same story we already heard.”

Ramizi said, “Shadelings need a baseline thousand mana per day to live.” He looked to Justine, saying, “Some of you can eat your own mana though, can’t you?”

“We all can. Most of us do.” Justine said, “But it is a wyrm eating its tail; there is some loss, each day. It is not enough.”

Ramizi looked to Ophiel. “Yesterday we saw a desperate shadeling kill and eat the rads out of the chests of two others.”

Maia asked Justine, “Who’s fault is it that you live like this?”

Justine immediately said, “It is no one’s fault save our own. We have been given an opportunity, and some are incapable of rising above our shared beginnings. That’s all there is to it.”

She spoke her words with obvious false conviction. Erick did not need to be there, in that space, to see the way her shoulders slumped a little, or how her words were vomited up from some deeply ingrained place in her mind, but not in her heart.  

But all of that could have been an act.  

Erick almost ended his visit to Candlepoint right there.  

But...

Back on Earth, Erick had been a healthcare social worker for a time, but he also helped children, and the local highschool, and the local gangs. He got around. He had seen a lot in his almost eighteen years on the job. He had seen people stabbed. He had been threatened with death, and he threatened others with punitive action in order to save himself and others from danger. He had seen through lies and spoken uncomfortable truths. He had rescued kids from parents that abused them. He had reunited kids with parents who got their acts together. He helped people get chemo and doctor visits and housing and more, both as part of a team, and as an individual, back on Earth.  

Veird had thrown everything into chaos, for him. Emotionally, physically, mentally; all ways. He had seen some shit during his time here, but seeing four people murdered and cleaned up and the whole event brushed over like it never happened…  

That was a new experience.

Erick briefly came back to himself, sitting comfortably in the library of his house, over three [Teleport]s away from Candlepoint. Kiri sat across the room from him, reading, sipping her coftea. Erick’s own mug steamed into the air on the short table beside him.  

With an expert flick of mental control, he Handy Aura’d a scratch pad and a pen from his nearby desk and quickly wrote out a checklist of problems to solve. Right off the bat, he saw a lot that needed solving. Food, was a major problem—

“Kiri.” Erick asked, “Monsters eating rads. Does it do anything for them? Small answer.”

Kiri looked up from her book and blanked for a moment, before saying, “Uh. Yes and no. Meat-based monsters need to eat rads to stay alive, or else they wither away. Plant based monsters can grow their own rad. I don’t know why it is this way.”

“Any issue with giving rads to monsters?”

“Nooo?” Kiri winced, seeming to dredge up knowledge she barely knew. She said, “In a… in a laboratory setting, if a monster is given the option, they will only eat enough rads in order to maintain their own rad, interspersing the consumption of rads with normal food. However, if no other food is available, they will eat rads. Overeating of rads can lead to a wyrm-like scenario, where the monster either evolves into a new form, or dies, violently, often taking others with it.” She got up from her chair, saying, “I don’t know a lot about this subject. I’ll go to the Mage Guild library right now, and find out more. Poi can come in here to watch over you.”

“Yes. Thank you. Do that, please. Good plan.” Erick returned to Ophiel.  

Another person had walked closer to join their little group near the entrance to the Garrison: the man in the sequined tuxedo, along with two flanking automatons. He had not made it to Erick’s group, yet. He stopped to talk to adventurers at the gambling tables, and cheer them on, or buy them more drinks that he blipped in from somewhere else.  

But it was very clear he was headed this way. The Mage Trio had spoken a bit to Justine while Erick was mentally back in Spur, but they were quiet, now; waiting. The sequined man finished speaking in loud, happy tones to a dragonkin who rolled high at a card table, then snapped his fingers at a waitress in a thin dress. The woman fell in with the man, as he made his way, finally, to Ophiel.  

Maia, Eduard, and Ramizi, fell back a bit, making room for the man. Justine moved away from the Mage Trio, and the new person, both. She stayed somewhat near Ophiel, though, and that was intriguing, to Erick. What was her goal in all of this? To ingrain herself with him? Obviously, yes. That’s what her body language said, but there was something else going on here.

“Greetings, Archmage Flatt!” said the sequined man, throwing a hand up in the air, then toward the waitress with him. Five dark drinks appeared in crystal glasses on her tray. “I am Mephistopheles, the caretaker of this Garrison. I’m charmed to meet you.” He picked up a drink, the dark liquid inside sparkling with white flashes. “It’s a new drink on the menu, just today! We call it Vivid Gloom. It’s sure to burn going down, but feel great afterward. Compliments of Mister M!”

Erick mentally brushed over the name of the drink. Much more interesting things were happening all around him.  

Thanks to Ophiel having eyes in every direction, Erick saw several events occur simultaneously with Mephistopheles’s announcement. Justine went stock still, as did every other shadeling in earshot, including the waitress Mephistopheles had commandeered to hold the drinks, but the waitress’s demeanor was already at a very tense stage. Then they all relaxed, as rote training kicked in, and the whole place seemed to run a bit smoother. Waiters handed out drinks with practiced motions and larger smiles. Cards were dealt with perfect aplomb. Congeniality took hold of the Garrison, with a titanium grip.

Some of the adventurers saw what had happened, but most either did not see, or care.

Erick took a second to make sure he wasn’t imagining what he was seeing. And nope, he was not. The Garrison ran smoother, in the moments after Mephistopheles mentioned ‘Mister M’.

And then the moment passed. Ramizi took the offered drink. Maia and Eduard respectfully declined. Mephistopheles casually stared at Justine, and then Justine took a drink and waterfall’ed the whole stein-sized crystal glass.  

She declared, as though plotted out in advance, “A delicious drink. Thank you very much.”

Mephistopheles smiled wide, then turned to Ophiel, smirking playfully as he asked, “So what brings the great Archmage Flatt to my humble demesne? Here to kill a monster, perhaps?” He joked, “I hope your sights are set on the Board back there, and not on the innocent inhabitants of this little plot of paradise we call Candlepoint?”

Erick wanted to like Mephistopheles, so this answer was easy, “I won’t be going to war today.”

Mephistopheles cheered, “Hooray and huzzah!” He turned to the room, and in a voice barely louder than when he announced half priced drinks, said, “Free drinks for the next hour!”

Erick had noticed that everyone was casually looking in their direction, of course, but at that moment, when the entire Garrison instantly erupted in more bright jubilation, he saw more than the conversation right in front of Ophiel. He saw patrons dismiss conjured blades held under tables, or take their hands off of the weapons tucked into their belts. The automatons relaxed a fraction. He saw card dealers sigh in obvious relief. One even brushed away a tear, then went right back to dealing cards.

Erick came halfway back to himself, and said to Poi, sitting across from him, “If these people are actors or controlled, they are perfectly controlled, all to give the illusion of free people down on their luck.”

Poi nodded, saying, “That’s our consensus, too.”

“Everyone’s?”

“The Mind Mage police and Spur and a few others; yes.”

Back in Candlepoint, Mephistopheles said, “I could deliver you one of these drinks, if you wish, Archmage.” He smiled, adding, “Drop it at your door in Spur, perhaps?”

“No thank you.” Erick skipped right over what could have been an implied threat, or not, and returned to the matter of how he just saw four shadelings murdered right in front of him. “I’d much prefer to know how come those people who rushed in here, had to rush in here at all. Is your Garrison meant to feed everyone? Or is something else going on, there?”

Mephistopheles smiled, saying, “I would love to take this conversation into a more comfortable location, especially since you managed to call us ‘people’.”

Erick said, “Lead the way.” He turned to the Mage Trio, and sent to the three of them, ‘Talk later?’

All three rapidly responded with affirmatives, then left.  

Erick floated alongside Mephistopheles, as the sequined man led the way through the main floor of the Garrison, and spoke of the card games and how they worked. He had a nice voice. It was all standard gambling, though, luring people in with promises of multiplying their darkchip reserves, while the Garrison took in the allotted chips from every single shadeling who played nice, and adventurers paid in rads to get chips. Those rads then went out to everyone who gave their darkchips to the Garrison. Mephistopheles’ answer to ‘what is the Garrison’, was much the same as Erick already knew, and what Justine had already explained: it was a way for shadelings to get rads without directly dealing with adventurers. A variation of collective bargaining, perhaps?

Though the sequined shadeling certainly put a larger, more colorful spin on it all.  

… Erick really wanted to like the man. Everything about him was obviously an act, but it seemed like it was an act born of desperation. A need to set himself apart, perhaps? Or an act of defiance for the atmosphere of the place? ‘Mephistopheles’ was not his real name, either. Erick might not have been ‘with it’ when it came to fantasy stuff, like his daughter, but he knew that name was from some German play, or book, or something, and much, much older than Jane’s D&D.  

Or maybe ‘Mephistopheles’ was his real name, but it was a name given to him by Melemizargo.  

Whatever the case, Mephistopheles led Erick and Justine to a slightly raised area, set off of the main gambling floor, where a large, plush red couch sat, under a large, blank black spot of the wall. It was a luxurious spot for anyone to sit, but it was obviously reserved for VIPs. It even had a pair of automatons stationed just to the sides.  

Mephistopheles walked right past the automatons, leaving his own flanking pair to join the other two. Erick floated Ophiel up into the space, to hover just off of the red couch. Justine stopped at the edge of the staircase, and turned around to face the casino floor.  

It was just Mephistopheles and Ophiel, right now. Mephistopheles casually fell backward onto the couch, coming to a rest on the plush leather. A glowing red drink appeared in his hands. Erick couldn’t help but think that the man certainly did strike a dashing, devilish figure, even if he looked to have lost a fight with a monstrous bedazzler.  

Mephistopheles said, “To answer your question about the people of this fair city: the people of this fair city are destitute. We are scrabbling for whatever scraps we can get, you see? I put on this outfit and this demeanor to put people at ease. It is an act, like so much of life! But just like any good act, I tend to enjoy mine, and that has a nice effect on the crowds.” He smirked, adding, “I am the fourth person to hold this position, since Candlepoint opened. With any luck, I might last a few more days, but I fully expect someone to come kill me for some imagined slight. Candlepoint is in no way, shape, or form, stable.” He smirked. “Besides the stables for horses. But who has a horse? Certainly not me. We have more than a few whores, though. Not quite the same, but some would say they make for even better rides.” He gestured to the automatons, saying, “Those things are for your protection, not mine. If I should ever choose to defend myself, for whatever reason, I will be murdered just as fast as those ruffians out there were murdered.”

“… I did not expect such an honest answer.”

“I could lie.” Mephistopheles said, “I often do. In fact, what I just said might be a lie.” He added, “You can never know, you know? So don’t take my word for it.” He asked, “How’s your visit going?”

Erick answered honestly, but without giving his full opinion. “It’s going.”

“That good, huh?”  

“This was my first stop, and it’s already seeming to be too much.”

“Ah ha! Now just imagine how good it must be for us who cannot leave.” Mephistopheles brightened, asking, “Any way I can help you decide not to kill us all?”

Erick went with his gut, and spilled an idea that he formed in the last five minutes, “I’m considering harvesting vast tracts of the Crystal Forest to gather enough rads to feed everyone here.” He left out the part of how his own heart seemed to be bleeding for these people; that would show weakness. Instead, he could show strength, perhaps, by asking, “But I have no way to harvest that many rads without a lot of work, and I am not going to do that for you. Instead, if you know of a good combination for magically gathering all the rads in a Super Large Area, I might see about creating such a spell, and using it to support your people.”  

Justine, still standing at the edge of the raised VIP area, with her back to Ophiel, turned slightly. Her bright grey eyes seemed full of hope for one brief moment, before she caught five of Ophiel’s eyes looking at her. She stomped her emotions down hard, and turned back to casually observing the casino floor.  

Erick had eyes open almost everywhere around Ophiel. He was seeing a lot that he knew he would have missed if he was there in person.

Without missing a beat, Mephistopheles smiled wide, saying, “I don’t control anything, anywhere, except for the fun and the games. I’m not even sure where I would look to find such a spell, for one such as you. But besides that, teaching you magic to harvest all of Candlepoint at once seems dangerous, my maybe friend.”  

“If you can’t, then you can’t. I will have to find some other way to help your people.” Erick said, “But I’m already dangerous, though likely not more than you.”

Fangs peeked out of Mephistopheles’s wide grin. “I somehow doubt that very much, for I am but a simple casino owner, forbidden from doing anything but talk, and you’ve invented the first new magics on Veird in 1200 years.” He sat back on his red couch, and glanced behind Ophiel, before returning his sight to the [Familiar], to say, “But for the thrill of theorizing: How would you like such information delivered unto you? Provided I can find such a sensational spell, for sure.”

Erick had already seen what Mephistopheles had glimpsed happening behind Ophiel. This location was not secure. People were listening in on them right now. Erick even saw one dealer at a nearby table prompt an orcol woman into if she wanted another card, or not. The orcol startled a little, then went back to her game, but she kept an ear nonchalantly turned toward the VIP area. She wasn’t the only one listening in to Erick’s conversation with—

Ah. ‘Mephistopheles’. The devil that you make deals with for arcane knowledge, or something like that? Erick was almost sure that’s where the name came from.  

Erick said, “Whatever works, works. But don’t deliver the spell to Spur or my house directly. Something untoward would likely happen in such an event.”

Mephistopheles set his bright red drink down, and said, “As you wish, archmage.”

Erick said, “Lovely establishment you have here, but I have other things to see.”

Mephistopheles nodded.  

Ophiel departed the VIP area, then left the Garrison. Justine followed. The sun had set while Erick was inside the Garrison, and that apparently meant that it was time for the crowds to depart the dark roads of the city.  

Of the dozens that had been on the streets before, now there was only Justine, Ophiel, and a pair of ragged, skystruck shadelings wandering south in the center of the road. Justine gave the pair of lost souls a short, tender look, then turned north. Erick followed.  

Justine walked in silence to their next destination, while Ophiel floated beside her.

Candlepoint was still full of bright lights and deep shadows. But now, eyes peered out of every darkened corner, while wind carried over the tops of buildings and gently whistled on harsh edges.  

Erick saw many almost-normal things as they traveled.  

There was a five story hotel with large windows, but the curtains were drawn almost every window. Tiny noises coming from inside marked the building as a well appointed bordello. Some of the curtains were not drawn, though. Shadelings sat in those windows, some of them nude, others in ragged clothes. All of them were beyond skinny. Some of them were smoking pipes, and exhaling blue smoke.  

The hotel was just the worst offender, but Erick saw the same scene playing out in miniature wherever he looked, except where he saw violence. Where there was violence, Erick watched, but let it be.

This place was a nightmare.  

Erick had to help them… But it could all be a trick. A game of some sort.  

Okay. Okay. Erick frantically thought. Okay. So what if it’s a trick? What’s their goal? To appear so pitiful no one pays them any mind? That’s highly likely. But they’re suffering, in the mean time. Okay. Okay. So. I can help them, but never interact directly. Or even through intermediaries. That would lean into whatever trick they’re trying to pull. But! Fuck! I can’t not help! Shit.

Ophiel betrayed none of Erick’s inner turmoil. Or at least Erick hoped not.

Justine took Erick down a well lit side street that was only vaguely thinner than the main drag. Soon, they arrived at their next destination. It was nothing more than a simple, yet large roof of dark stone, held up by several pillars; it was a pavilion large enough to cover a small house, and lit up like a stadium, but there was nothing under the roof save a long, curling line of hungry shadelings.  

It was a meal center. Erick had worked more than one of those in his time. This one was slightly different than he was used to, but it had all the hallmarks of what he expected.

At the head of the line, and heavily overseen by strong looking shadelings with long clubs in their hands, there was a long table, where shadelings walked up and were served small bowls of gruel, or something, in exchange for their darkchips. No one spoke as they got to the serving table, but everyone was chatting with each other further down the line. Some of them were even looking Erick’s way, but mostly they seemed to care more about Justine than about the floating ball of feathers beside her.  

Justine stopped at the edge of the pavilion. She said, “This is one of the larger meal pavilions located around the city. We’ve only been at this self-sufficiency thing for a short while, but we are managing what we can, where we can.”

Erick asked, “Where is your food coming from?”

“From people like me. And others. We have a few smaller buildings enchanted to draw water from the air, and then we go in and [Grow] what we can. Water Season is almost upon us, though. We expect these meager offerings to increase greatly, once we can tap into the rising water table thirty meters below Candlepoint.” Justine added, “There’s also a great deal of leftovers from the nicer establishments around the city. Those businesses are supported directly by the Clergy, with harvests that come directly from Kendrithyst.”

“I read about those water gathering runes.” Erick said, “They cost a lot to maintain, and they’re not that good.”

“We do what we must.” Justine said, “Most of the water goes directly to the water supply, for drinking. Bathing is a luxury reserved for adventurers and visitors.”

Erick looked over the line of shadelings, and said, “I’d like to see a home, now.”

Justine nodded, and turned back to the street. Erick followed.  

The house Justine took him too was actually an apartment, not too far from the meal pavilion. The exterior looked about the same as dozens of others he had seen on the way to this one. The whole city looked to have been made by rapidly applied and barely concerned [Stoneshape]s, after all.  

The inside of this apartment was clean-ish, though the absence of [Cleanse] was rather apparent. The smell of the bathroom was present even out on the street, but inside it was omnipresent. Erick had smelled worse houses, but not on Veird. The bed was a simple mattress of hay wrapped in barely stained cloth, with a small off-white blanket on top. There was no pillow.  

Justine introduced Erick to the occupant of the apartment, a young male shadeling of human stock, named Irkil, who wore off-white clothes that were stained darker under the arms. He was a mousy sort of guy; kind of small.

Something clicked for Erick.  

How were these people wearing clothes and having mattresses and all of these other accouterments of civilization, without actually having industry? Were these the simple cast offs of Ar’Kendrithyst’s plot to get adventurers into Candlepoint? Or was something else going on, there?

Erick looked to the bed. If that was a [Conjure Item], why had Irkil conjured it so poorly?  

Teressa was rather unwilling to do most magics, but that was only partially because she wasn’t very good at them, but even she could conjure a four poster bed, if she wanted. She could do so much better than any of what he had seen around Candlepoint. Were the vast majority of shadelings un-Matriculated? Or was something else going on, here?  

Erick asked, “Are you wearing [Conjure Armor]? Are you un-Matriculated?”

“No, sir! None of the above!” Irkil said, standing a bit taller as he said, “We’re forbidden from wearing armor. These are merely the clothes that I have bound to myself, for the moment. I hope to achieve something better when my employment at the Garrison or the Guard is approved.” He added, “All shadelings are automatically Matriculated into the Script, as soon as we find our names. This is the cutoff of the Clergy’s assistance, too. Some try to slow that process, but I was and am ready to begin my own life.” He gestured to his room, saying, “It’s not much, but it’s enough for now, and by this time next week, I’ll be much better off.”

Erick let that sit for a moment, then asked, “What do you mean, ‘bound to yourself’?”

Irkil frowned a little. He said, “I’m not sure how to answer… that? Uh. It’s... bound to me?”

Justine asked, “Would you like to go to the Crystal, and see the full listings of prizes? I can explain every single one to you, and what each Stat does. The ‘bound’ that Irkil is referring to is the ‘Soulbound Stone’, listed as a Lesser Prize for a hundred darkchips.” She added, “Every fully realized shadeling is given two soulbound stones for free, along with other items scavenged and repaired inside Kendrithyst. These items are usually enough to provide someone with a place to lay at night, and clothes to wear.”

Irkil happily said, “All I had were rags, taken from the pile. But if I work for the Guard, or the Garrison, or one of the hotels, I’ll have a lot more, soon enough!” His joy fell a fraction, as he added, “And I will, because I’m no layabout.”

Erick said, “I hope that works out for you, Irkil.”

“Me, too!”

Poi’s voice came to Erick, ‘Sir. Kiri has found your information regarding monsters eating rads.’

Erick quickly sent, ‘Tell her to look up spells to gather large amounts of rads from dead monsters, while she’s there. Super Large Area, if she can. I don’t expect her to find much, but a good foundation would be nice.’

‘Understood.’

Erick turned to his guide, and said, “Justine. I don’t care about the items for sale, or what they do. I just want peace and prosperity. If you are real people, and not some plot designed to burrow into the rest of civilization and destroy everyone from the inside, then time will tell more than words ever could.”

Justine stood strong. She said, “We accept the burdens of proof laid upon our shoulders.”

“Me, too!” Irkil said, enthusiastically, like only a young person could.  

Erick asked, “Now what kind of food do you eat? Anything that a person of your original race would, or could?”

“Yes.” Justine said, “Rice and beans go a long way, and I understand they are cheap to procure. We would have to pay you in darkchips, of course. It is the currency we are allowed to use.”

“Rice and beans, then.” Erick said, “When I come back, I will be checking on everything I saw this evening.”

“You’ll be coming back?” Justine’s grey eyes brightened. “I understand.”

Erick asked, “Now… Is it true you cannot [Cleanse]?”

“Yes.” Justine said, “The Open Script is slightly different for some races, and we are among them. [Mend]. [Cleanse]. All Spatial magic. Most utility spells. These are locked to us.”

Erick almost offered to cast [Mirage Slime]s into the area. Each cast lasted an hour, and would constantly search out new problems to clean up. No one deserved to live in squalor. But then he stopped himself. If he offered to help, now, where would the helping stop? Erick answered his own question: It would never stop. Erick would lock himself to helping those who were obviously in need, and who knew if these people were malicious actors, or not?

No. He would not help them in that way. Not today. Or rather, tonight.  

Erick turned to Irkil, saying, “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

Irkil said, “No problem, Archmage Flatt! Thank you for visiting!”

The kid spoke with infectious enthusiasm, and with that thought entering Erick’s head, he wondered about disease. If they couldn’t use [Cleanse], they would likely face some sort of contagion sooner or later.  

Erick turned his mind away from those thoughts and bounced Ophiel in acknowledgment. He headed out the door. Justine followed.  

In the middle of the well lit street, full of colors and darkness and a road that was greyer than the rest, Ophiel hovered. Countless shadows of his feathered self spread out from his holding pattern, each one a slightly different color. Justine stood in the street next to Ophiel. Her shadows were much the same, though they were more solid and wispy, like carpets laid down around her feet.  

Erick said, “I would like to visit again, some time soon. I would also bring you rice and beans. And rads, if my own research on the topic proves it is not a danger to us. And, I suppose, if Mephistopheles’ spells work.”

Justine kept her emotions, shoulders, and face, even; poised. But Erick could tell by the slight upturn and glow of her eyes that she was overjoyed.  

Overjoyed at pulling one over on Erick? Maybe. But: Whatever. If there was no physical harm in helping these people, he would do so. These shadelings— these people… They seemed rather indoctrinated. Erick had stayed mostly away from the topic of who was actually causing these people their hardships after Justine had answered Maia that ‘everything that was wrong with them was their own fault’. But that was clearly not the true answer.  

But helping people unlearn indoctrination was a difficult task; one that Erick was not willing to fight against, today. And besides that, he could be wrong, too.  

“Thank you, Archmage Flatt.” Justine said, “I would wish you well in the usual way, but I fear you might take it unkindly if I pray for the eyes of my god to be upon you.”

“He’s had his eyes on me since I fell to Veird, Justine.” Erick said, “Farewell.”

Ophiel departed the field, dismissed back into the manasphere; Erick was not willing to risk bringing him back to Spur.

After a moment, Justine broke down in happy tears. Irkil rushed out of his apartment to her side, and she waved him off. Another four shadelings came out of the nearby shadows, and she began speaking to them. Some of them seemed happy. Others seemed worried.

Erick’s [Scry] eye, high, high above, caught the entire event.  

- - - -

Erick sat still for a moment, there in his chair in the library. He thought about what had happened. He had seen some bad situations in his day, but his visit to Candlepoint had affected him in some deep kinda way.  

… He would likely ask himself if everything he had seen was a part of some sort of agenda for a long, long time to come. But for now, he would do what his heart told him to do.  

He looked over to Poi, and thought at the man.

Poi said, “If they’re less desperate, then they’ll likely be less willing to follow whatever evil voice rises up in their midst. That place is rife for some unkind influence to take control of the entire place, and they’re already all loyal to the Shades.”

“Yeah… That’s what I thought, too.” Erick asked, “What did Kiri manage to find?”

“She’s off looking after your other request, now.” Poi said, “You’re not going to find much, though. Widespread rad collection is the bane of most archmages.”

“That’s what I heard, too.” Erick asked, “What is a rad, Poi?”

“A collection of mana.” Poi shrugged. “Don’t know what else to say.”

“I’m probably going to have to attach some sort of collection spell to [Domain of the Withering Slime]. But that would make it a tier 5.” Erick turned his attention inward as he glanced at his Status. He only had 7 points available. “I need to invent a few more Basic Spells to get that option, though.” He added, “Or I could try to get above tier 6. My [Endless Plasma Wrap] is only tier 6, and that’s the highest I have… Creating a tier 7, 8, and 9, would be 21 more points. Or I could reinvent some Basic Spells… I wonder how [Force Bolt] came to be...”  

Erick thought for a moment longer, and then he acted. Six Ophiels popped out of the air at Erick’s discretion. He sent one of them blipping into his gardening room, to pick up a box of Erick Beans and a container of rice, ready for planting—

He paused. He asked Poi, “Is there going to be a problem with giving food aid to the shadelings of Candlepoint?”

Poi said, “Yes. Not from me, though. Even if their suffering is a ploy, allowing people to suffer is still wrong.”

“… Will it be a problem I can’t handle?”

“No idea, sir.” Poi said, “I have no idea how this is going to play out, but I won’t go there in person, and you should never go, either. No one you care about should ever have any contact with a shadeling, and you should treat this as playing along with their ploy, for now, with the full intention of backstabbing them when they show who they are.”

Erick sighed, “Yeah...”

With a mental push, Erick sent his Ophiel and their stash of seeds out into an unimportant part of the Crystal Forest, a mere 570 kilometers away to the south east. The sky was full dark, with stars twinkling above. The moons washed the land in silver. He sat back in his chair again, as he guided his [Familiar]s to first hover high into the sky, and then light up that part of the desert with bright, full spectrum spotlights.  

Crystal Mimics on the ground immediately noticed the lights. They jerked active for a few small moments, but they quickly resumed their attempts at hiding in plain sight when nothing else happened.  

Next, came a [Cascade Imaging] set up in the middle of the Erick’s future project. He let that run, searching for ‘people’, hoping he would find none. And then he went to work, clearing out the mimics and working over the land.

What took Erick a good hour to make was a basic garden of three rings. It was perfectly circular and about a kilometer across, with a tall, outer wall, five meters high and a meter wide. The next section of the garden was a portion of land filled with stone spikes, that beans would vine upon. The center of the circular garden was a flat, clay and loam basin that would soon be growing rice.  

This land wasn’t the best for growing anything. The plants Erick planned to grow would likely start dying as soon as Erick stopped supporting the area. But by that time, something else would likely happen, and maybe the shadelings wouldn’t need this project. Or maybe he could make something closer to them, and they could harvest what he grew for them, instead of him doing the whole job.  

Eh. It’s not like it would be a hard job. He had a lot of tricks up his sleeve to help him grow what he wanted to grow. It was just beans and rice, after all. He could even use that spell he made a long while ago, [Gravity Strainer].  

--

Gravity Strainer, instant, medium range, 65 mana, 1 hour duration.  

Conjure a large, freely moldable space where specific objects turn near-weightless and fall to a designated point.

--

He’d have to cast it a few… five hundred times, around the place, and it wouldn’t last very long, but he could designate ‘beans’ and ‘rice’ and those would get pulled upward. Ophiel could then go around and use his Handy Aura to clip the produce off the plants, sending them to gathering points in the air above.

It should work.  

Erick set nine Ophiel to work, planting the small amount of his beans and rice into their respective locations. His reserves didn’t account for much coverage. He’d have to grow and replant a dozen times before the land was filled with green vines, and the basin held enough water to plant the rice.

So he did just that.  

Glowing rain came down all across the orange land, while Ophiels waited in eight Restful [Prismatic Ward]s, evenly placed around the walls, with one in the center, on a three meter tall tower of stone. The Ophiel in the center sang a song of violins and growth, as he poured out platinum from the sky.

Green vines sprouted, twirling up around stone trellises, under the watchful eyes of Ophiel, and Erick. When pods started to sprout, Erick cut the rain, and Ophiels descended upon the new harvest with careful, yet quick telekinetic hands. They plucked open bean pods and scattered the white seeds everywhere.  

The second platinum rain brought a whole lot more beans than the first, and actually began to fill up the basin in the center. But this second iteration not enough to cover even a tenth of the cleared land.  

Erick repeated the process a few more times. After the third iteration, the basin had enough water in it to support the rice, so Erick planted rice, and started to spread those golden grains out across the basin when they started to sprout up from the platinum waters.  

He quickly decided that there was no need to keep the vines clean and orderly, or to keep the rice orderly, either.  

With his [Gravity Strainer]s set up across the whole of the space, golden grains and green bean pods began reaching for the night sky, and the spotlights above. Ophiels all around the garden began to carefully pluck the produce, sending it up into the air, to collect together. They took breaks in their own [Prismatic Ward]s when needed, for Erick only directed them how to do their assigned tasks once, and then they were on their own, each of them performing their duty perfectly, using their own mana.

Plants were damaged in the process, but [Gravity Strainer] mostly separated leaves and stems from bean pods and rice. Those leaves and stems fell back to the ground, or into the water, where churning, growing vines and rapidly multiplying water plants, quickly overtook the debris.  

Erick left nine Ophiel to their tasks, but took direct control of the last one, to collect the creations of his garden. For now, he would store the goods beside his house. So he [Stoneshape]d two stone silos next to his house. They were average sized rooms, but he would likely have to make them larger in order to fit the results of his experiment. But that was okay.  

With a [Teleporting Platform], and moving as quick as Ophiel could, Erick gathered the raw goods and teleported them into those stone rooms. A hundred kilograms of raw rice here. A hundred kilos of beans there. Now two hundred kilos of each. Now more. And then even more. Faster and faster it came. The variety of produce was dearly lacking, but beans and rice was a complete meal, and there was a lot of it. Before long, Erick had to take a break alongside his Ophiel. He had actually run out of mana [Teleport]ing back and forth.  

He canceled the rain over the garden and set his Ophiel to harvest what was left. The two buildings he made were full, so he built a third, then a fourth. There was about as much beans as there was rice, but both would need to be shelled and threshed before they were edible. That would cut down on the size of the harvest by a lot.  

Two stone silos was still more than enough for feed a lot of people for quite a while, though.  

Erick cast four specialized drying and preservation [Ward]s into the stone rooms, and then sealed them, save for holes at the top to let out moisture. He had barely ever used those preservation [Ward]s, but they were very necessary, since he had put the grain away wet. Normally, this was a major no-no. But it wouldn’t rot in a single day. By tomorrow, it should be ready to shell and thresh, but Erick had never done that before. He decided he would have to ask a few people on the Community Gardening Council for some tips. Tomorrow, though.  

He came back to himself on his chair in the library, and smiled.  

Teressa was on the other side of the room, reading a book. She noticed his return and smiled, as she asked, “Did you finish?” She gestured to the table beside him, saying, “Kiri found some of what you wanted.”

“The goods should be ready for preparation in twelve hours.” Erick picked up the note sitting atop four different books. He read it, then said, “No real way to SLR gather rads, eh?” He looked to the books. The one on top was the smallest one, the most promising, and on loan from Sirocco. He picked it up, and read the title. ‘Summoning Rads: a guide to automatic gathering magics’. He smiled a little, then muttered, “Summoning magic is one way, I guess.” He looked to the other books, leafing through them a little, then asked, “Do you know anything about what happens if a monster eats rads, Teressa? Kiri’s note says nothing really happens.”

“Don’t know much.” Teressa said, “I do know that wyrms eat everything and generally get stronger and crazier when they eat enough rads.”

Erick set the books back down. “I’ll read that in the morning.” He got up, and with one of two remaining Ophiels on his shoulder, said, “Good night, Teressa.”

“Night, Boss.”

- - - -

Erick’s other remaining Ophiel remained stationed in the center of the garden with the lights turned off, sitting on the stump that rose above the basin, under a nearly full strength [Prismatic Ward]. Casting that dense air had nearly cost him his full mana pool and therefore his body, but that was fine. Ophiel loved being out in the open air, even at night in the cold, cold air, and besides, he recovered his strength under that dense air when needed. This was open country, where the wind blew hard and the stars shone bright as the moons and agave outside of the garden walls glittered with reflected light. Occasionally, Ophiel returned to the vine-filled, messy garden to check for anything out of place, but nothing appeared, and nothing happened.

When the sun came up, the chill wind turned to a warm breeze. Flying at night was nice, but Ophiel much preferred less frost in his flights. As the sun reached up from the eastern horizon, and heat returned to the Crystal Forest, Ophiel played in the warm breeze above a land of tangled green vines, and a drying lake basin.  

- - - -

Erick tried not to shout as he gestured toward his silos of foodstuffs, saying, “It’s so that they don’t get radicalized by their Shade overlords and prompted into war! I am perfectly aware of the dangers of dealing with them. I’m not ever going to meet them in person!”

Hours ago, morning dawned, and Erick had gone out to see what to make of his haul. The rice was great, but still in husks, and the beans were still in pods. Both had dried out considerably due to the drying [Ward] he put up last night, so that was good. The rice turned flaky in his hands, revealing white grains under golden husks, while the beans were almost popping out of their dried brown shells on their own. They were definitely ready for the next part of the preparation process. Technically, he could give this haul to Justine as-is, but that seemed cheap, somehow. Especially when he was perfectly capable of giving them a finished product.

Maybe he would even move this whole operation next to Candlepoint, and let them do almost everything, except for the necessity of the rains, or course. He would ask for darkchips to keep up the appearances of doing this for his own greed, but if they let him, he would do this for free. Seeing a city full of hungry people was not something Erick could walk away from, or ignore.

Solving the rad-sustenance problem would come later. Giving them a hand up instead of a hand out would also come later. Right now they were dying of desperation, and that was intolerable.  

So he went to speak to Kip, the bluemetal wrought who worked the rice fields in the Garden, to ask for some help threshing and shelling, with whatever machines they used. Kip seemed wary at first, and then helpful, and then downright antagonistic, when Erick told Kip the full story of why he needed threshing help.  

From there, things spiraled out of control rather fast.  

And now, standing on the bare orange rock outside of his house, next to his poor man’s silos of grain and beans, Erick felt like he was facing an immortal wrought firing squad. Three different people were all telling him he was doing the wrong, while only one person seemed to be on the fence.  

Kip said, “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He rounded on Erick, saying, “They’re taking you for a long walk down a short tunnel. You know that right? Or maybe you don’t!”

Killzone loomed, saying, “I don’t like it. I don’t think you should do this. Not only are you empowering what is assuredly an enemy, but you are weakening your own resolve against what must come later.”

Erick scowled, saying, “I assure you, that I am perfectly aware of the necessity of what must come.”

“Are you?” Anhelia, full of anger, said, “You are too kind, Erick. They are using you. I’ve seen it before. I will see it again. And you. Are. Being. Used.” She turned to Silverite, demanding, “Talk him out of this!”

Silverite was the only hope Erick had, as she was the only one who did not immediately pounce on Erick’s idea as foolish. But now, as her thin lips turned to a frown, that little hope began to shrivel and die on the vine.  

Silverite looked directly at him, and said, “Erick. I understand your compulsion to help.” She glanced over to Poi, adding, “And since this compulsion is not magical, I was willing to hear you out. Here is my conclusion: You are cleared for helping Candlepoi—”

Kip shouted, “FUCKING SLAG, Silverite! You cannot be serious!”

Anhelia said, “I agree with Kipernikus. This is too foolish to even entertain.”

“It’s not too foolish! I’m perfectly aware of the depravity of the Shades,” Erick said.

Anhelia rounded on him, eyes wide and anger drawing her face into heavy lines. She almost shoved a pointed iron finger at his chest. But she stopped. She did not say anything. She shook her finger in barely checked rage. In a second, she forced herself to calm, dropping her hand to her side. She said, “All that you think you know is second hand knowledge, but this action will ensure that the Shades give you first hand knowledge.”

Erick said, “I know that Ar’Kendrithyst deserves total destruction.”

Anhelia scoffed a laugh, then turned away to hide the hurt in her eyes. For all their metallic nature, wrought certainly wore their emotions openly, sometimes.  

Erick waited for someone else to say something.  

“What are your thoughts, Silverite?” Killzone asked.

They all turned to her, as Silverite’s next words came telepathically, ‘They don’t have [Cleanse], but they could easily hire someone to [Cleanse] their food for them. Maybe they won’t. Maybe, we can make them dependent on Erick for food, and if they get uppity, we send them toxic goods. It would be easy enough to create a bean or a rice that would kill a shadeling.’

They all looked to Erick, as Erick had a minor breakdown.  

Could he do that? Could he poison people?

Holy shit!

He would have to, wouldn’t he?  

He sent, ‘Okay.’

Anhelia brightened, then shoved her emotions back below the surface. Kip looked unconvinced. Killzone simply nodded, while Silverite stood impassively.  

Erick pushed his luck. “What about me feeding them rads, too?”

The reaction he got was unexpected.

Anhelia said, “Yes. Do this.” She added, “If they remain monsters with rads in them, they will be much easier to pick out of society when necessary. If they start discarding their shadeling status, they could be worse than Hunters.”

Erick recoiled in disgust. He hadn’t even considered that angle. He almost changed his mind about helping them with food. But. No. He held firm. The shadelings would get their food… And their rads, too. And if they turned into betrayers Erick would…

Erick didn’t finish that thought.  

Killzone said, “Monsters who overeat rads doom themselves to a messy death. So them asking for rads is not a big deal on the surface. The danger of giving them rads is that you are interacting with evil, and it will pull you under when it gets a chance.”

Silverite said, “They also use those rads to get levels, so. It’s not a non-issue, but it’s close.”

Anhelia said, dismissively, “They’re capping out at around level 55, so that’s fine. Let them limit themselves.”

“What?” Erick asked. “What are you talking about?”

Silverite said, “Monsters gain experience differently than people. There have been many theories on the subject for a long time, but finding monsters that speak is a rarity, so all we’ve really had is observational data. Like how mimics are almost always level 30 or 31. Candlepoint is a wealth if information about Melemizargo’s forces that we’ve never known before. Almost every shadeling is somewhere between level 35 to 55.”

“You’re not the only archmage to visit that place, Erick,” Anhelia said, the venom of her voice barely hidden. “Some of them have been working to understand the enemy. Not feed them.” She winced at her own words, and turned away, saying, “I’ve had enough. Apologies, all. I can’t do this.” She walked away, her iron feet tapping hard on the orange stone as she left.  

Killzone watched her go for a short moment, then turned back to Erick, saying, “I don’t think you know what you’re doing, but a lot of us are scrambling for answers right now. Maybe you’ll find some, without them duping you into some wrongheaded action.” He glanced to Silverite, saying, “I’ve got to go.”

Silverite nodded. Killzone blipped away in a black flash.  

Kip said, “Fine. I guess we’re doing this. I got threshers you can use. Today only, though!” He glared at Erick, adding, “They need to get their own threshers. And you need to not help them so much. A little help is fine; it’s the…” He angrily said, “I’m not sure if it’s the right thing to do, but we’re doing it, by Rozeta. I guess we’re doing it. I’ll be right back.” He flickered blue; blipping away.

Silverite and Erick, and Poi, remained.  

Silverite asked, “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I feel for them.” Erick said, “And more importantly: No one should be born into a position where everyone is out to kill you, or thinks you’re a threat. They will become our worst fears because that is the only route they have left for themselves.”

“I can see how you would think that statement is valid. In most cases, it is. But not here. Not now. Not when it comes to Shades.” Silverite said, “So I will say this: Never appear to them in person. Never accept gifts without thorough vetting. I’d tell you to never make bargains, but that ship has sailed. And beware that the rest of the world might see this as aiding the enemy.” She stared at him, saying, “And now, I will impart unto you the wisdom we impart to every soldier who takes a tour of duty in Ar’Kendrithyst: never, ever, speak highly or lowly or about anything or anyone you might encounter out there. The Shades and their ilk will twist your sights and beguile your emotions. They will make you feel they are innocent of the killings they have done and caused. But not everyone who is dealt a poor fate in this world turns into a maniacal murderer, or a monster. They chose to become Shades. They chose the Darkness. You are not their savior. You are not a hero. You are a watchdog of civilization, there to ensure the Darkness remains controlled, and to bark loudly when it ventures out of bounds.”

Erick felt Silverite’s words as much as he heard them, especially that part about being dealt a poor fate. He had said basically the same thing to Bulgan.  

Erick said, “I understand. I may not have the same history as you and yours, but I understand.”

Silverite looked at Erick for a moment, then said, “Okay. I trust you. Don’t get suckered into doing something you don’t want—”  

A patch of air the size of a small car blipped blue, five meters away. Kip had come back and brought with him a metal box with cranks and gears and hoppers and funnels.  

Silverite finished, “Don’t let them orchestrate how you move, Erick. That’s the first step to finding yourself plummeting to your death.” She smirked, looking back at his silos, saying, “And don’t use stone from the ground to build structures. If everyone did that, then Spur would be full of holes. Get some stone from outside, and good luck.” And then she flashed silver, and was gone.

Kip called out, “Let’s get this thing done!” He asked, “You got [Control Item]?”

“I do,” Erick said, walking closer to Kip. “Never really used it before, though.”

Kip tapped his blue metal, dragonkin claws against the thresher, saying, “It’s easy enough.” He pointed to a complicated set of toothed gears, saying, “See this gear, here? All you gotta do is...”

After a few explanations and demonstrations, Kip left Erick with his machine. It was a heavy duty thing, weighing in at two tons of mostly solid metal. It was almost impossible to break, even with a poor application of [Control Item]. Erick still managed to break it, though. After a few [Mend]s and a few more tries to get it all right, white beans began pouring out one funnel, while dried, brown shells came flying out of the other.  

All the machine really did was bounce around the dried bean pods and then using a strong fan to blow away the shells. It was simple, and it was effective. It only took two hours to get through the beans.  

Erick packaged them in meter wide stone boxes, [Stoneshape]d out of sand from outside the city. It wasn’t like he was unaware of Spur’s ban on using the ground to make buildings. He just didn’t consider that fact last night. When he was done with the bean silos, he dropped them back into the stone underfoot, without issue.  

Dealing with the rice took a half hour setting and resetting the machine to the ‘rice’ setting, and then two more hours to get through all of his stock.

When he was done, he stepped back. He had seen what he was producing, well before now, but the amount of goods still stunned a little. After threshing, two silos of rice became one silo, which was still a good 25-ish cubic meters of rice. It was about the same for the beans.  

Erick’s [Teleporting Platform] could support around five tons, according to his other experiments. But it could only support six stone boxes. Meaning he had about 41 tons of produce.  

He did not expect nearly that much of a haul. But this was good, wasn’t it? He placed the goods under cool and dry temperature [Ward]s, and let them sit out in the sun, for now.  

When he was done, it was just past noon, and he was ready for lunch. Kiri had gotten sandwiches from ‘Meat! Bread! Cheese!’ and they were delicious. Erick almost wondered after sources of meat for the shadelings of Candlepoint, but that was way too much assistance. Erick was already digging himself in deep; he would try to go no further.  

He wouldn’t deliver the good until this evening, either. He would only visit Candlepoint at sunrise or sunset. His few moments of being out after full dark had been more than enough to warn him away from trying the city during the ‘dangerous’ hours. He wouldn’t be harmed himself, since he would be riding Ophiel, but anyone he interacted with might suffer because of his presence.  

Before he would do that, though, he went to his library, and with Kiri’s help, decided on a plan for automatic rad gathering.

- - - -

[Conjure Force Elemental] + [Telekinesis] + [Stoneshape] + Mana Shaping, 500 = [Gatherer] or [Stone Gatherer]

It was a simple combination, but it was a good one.  

- - - -

Erick, Kiri, and Poi, stood atop a [Teleporting Platform] that floated over orange dunes to the north of Spur, two [Teleport]s away. Looking out across the land, Erick saw agave half buried by the moving dunes, and mimics standing tall above the sands.  

He would have done this a single [Teleport] from Spur, but a sandstorm was moving in against the city. This far north, he was past the storm.  

Erick lowered the platform to touch down on the sands, and prepared his spell in his mind, linking form to function, and [Stoneshape] to rads. Rads weren’t exactly stones. In fact, they were as much of a stone as they were water, or air, or fire, or shadow or light. They were mana, and mana was possibility. But stone was a good place to start, because stone could also be used to carve into bodies, to get to the rads. The other elements could do that too, sure, but stone was the most versatile, and most readily transformed into blades. And so, Erick had made a rhyme, both because magic would need to fill in a lot of gaps, and a good version of [Gatherer] was extremely necessary for future endeavors.

Maybe he’d make a [Prismatic Gatherer] in the future, but that was a mountain to summit. This [Stoneshape] version was as simple as climbing a minor hill.

Erick breathed deep, then stepped off of his platform, onto the dune. He felt the sand shift under his feet. Some of it cascaded down the sides of the sandy hill, some of it just slipped into his shoes. This was fine. He smiled, as he imagined touching the world, and joked,

“There once was a being of tools

“that gathered according to rules

“on battlefields ended

“from targets intended

“And brought back plentiful [Jewels].”  

Mana rushed through Erick to join the sand in front of him, to soak in, changing inert sand into something else, something with movement. Sand slipped from sand as a creation of magic a meter tall stood up, into the air, dragging dirt with it, only to have excess whipped away by the wind. A blue box appeared.

--

Summon Jewels, instant, close range, 720 MP

Summon a creation of hardy stone that will retrieve a large amount of rads from as many monsters it can, while it can. Lasts 1 hour.

--

Erick smiled, as his attention returned to Jewels. The summon had not moved since it stood up, but as the wind uncovered more of it, Erick saw that ‘Jewels’ was a deceptively simple creation.  

It was a crystal. Perhaps quartz. Perhaps something else. But it was definitely clear stone, with six sides, a top that came to a point, a body about a meter long, and a bottom that also came to a point. It was a little rough, but it was pretty. Iridescence flickered across the skin of the summon, as it lazily turned in the air. What truly caught Erick’s attention, though, was the intent layered into the air around it, and the tiny cascades of sand it was touching off, five meters away from itself, in every direction.  

Erick turned left, and summoned a [Withering] onto the desert. Mimic kill notifications would have popped up, but Erick had already shoved them to the sides, as he watched Jewels’ reaction.  

After a minute, the notifications stopped.  

Erick said, “Jewels—”

The creation perked up at its name. The intent Erick had seen touched off minor cascades of sand as it lifted up into the air, pulling a hundred different stone knives from the dune.  

“OooH!” Kiri said, backing up a bit on the floating platform. “Should we be worried, Erick?”

“No.” Erick watched, as larger knives and hammers, which were just hard packed rocks, lifted from the sand. “… Probably not.” He quickly said, “Jewels. Go collect the rads from the monsters I killed. Harm no living thing in the process.”

Jewels rushed down the face of the dune like a minor avalanche and a tornado, all at once.  

Erick Handy Aura’d himself off of the dune and back onto the [Teleporting Platform].

Kiri said, “Wow. That’s fast! Or…” She paused. “Hmm. Maybe not that fast, actually.”

Erick watched the summon go, and saw the problem Kiri saw. Jewels got to the first body and ripped into it, collecting a rad for its trouble. That rad was then stuck to the crystal in the center of the storm of blades, but then Jewels stopped. He waited. He was doing something, but whatever it was, was not visible.

It was a minute before Jewels took off again, headed straight for the next corpse, over fifty meters away. The next corpse was only twenty meters away, and Erick could see it from here, but it took Jewels another minute to reach the conclusion that he had to go that way, and dig through that body.  

“I guess [Scan] magic is necessary.” Erick said, “I had hoped it wouldn’t be.”

“I was either [Scan] magic for a tier 3, or keeping it tier 2.” Kiri said, “This is still good. And you can summon a lot more than one.”

Erick rapidly summoned three more Jewels, and sent them off hunting for rads. They tore down the dune while Erick followed them on the hovering platform.  

Forty minutes and one grand chase later, Erick’s experiment ended with him standing on the top of a small dune, with a small pile of rads sitting on the sand in front of him. He counted 76, 10 mana rads, which was the number of mimics he had killed with one [Withering]. That many rads was worth 760 mana, or 380 gold.  

 Erick smiled.  

Jewels could stay. Erick might even make him a tier 3 summon with [Cascade Imaging], later, once he got [Particulate Force].  

And to help accomplish that, Erick decided to invent another spell, while he had time. He threw a hundred mana into the air, asking if a certain water gathering spell was possible.  

Phagar responded, ‘All versions have already been made. Water from stone. Water from air. Water from fire, too, but that one was kinda… not a good spell. Water from water was basically your [Distill], but not—’ He paused. He said, ‘I’m getting the go-ahead for you to try with your water spell, anyway. Something about making integration easier to—’ He spoke unintelligible, unhappy words to someone else, then came back to Erick, offhandedly complaining, ‘Apparently I shouldn’t have said that. Whoops.’  

‘Oh… Okay?’

‘Good news, though: Particle Magic should be fully integrated in two months. That means ‘Particulate Force’ is going away, because all magic will once again be compatible with all other magic. The thing with [Ward] stopping Particle Magic will remain, though, and you’re gonna have to buy [Condense Particle] yourself, just like everyone else.’

‘Okay… That’s…’ Erick was… Happy about that? Yeah. He was happy about that. That saved him a Class Ability Slot. The rest Phagar’s announcement was perfectly fine. Erick sent, ‘That’s great!’

‘Hopefully!’ Phagar’s connection broke.

Erick smiled, as he turned his attention to the sky. Poi and Kiri hovered on his platform, five meters away, while he stood on a small dune.  

Endless blue stretched from horizon to horizon, while a warm wind blew from the north. Not a single cloud marred the heavens. It was a beautiful sight. There probably wasn’t a lot of water up there, but he was still going to try.  

Erick called out to the firmament,

“A cy-cle exists for all to see! A twist of air, deposits thee

“upon the land for life to be, growing, here-now! Up goes the tree!

“But wind steals thee from land and sea, now down thy be, and hidden see?

“But then heat rises up and ‘round again, up goes the sky and rounds the bend!

“A sky of rain, waters the land, H and O and H take hands,  

“And down again and up and then, a ‘round and ‘round and ‘rounds the bend!

“A cy-cle exist for all to see, but here be now, I call to thee

“Come down the sky, water the land, grant us a blessing now and be

“By will and life and cycle seen! Be here! Be now! I call to thee!”

Erick collapsed to his side. The magic was over.  

It was only after it was over that he realized that Kiri and Poi had both been screaming at him, trying to get him to stop, but waves of power had been pushing them away. He also realized that the song he had spoken was not the one he had planned. He had planned a much shorter instance of magic. A much more controlled burst of power, and intent.  

What he got was something else. Some other force, speaking through him, guiding his words, calling to something deeper than Erick had intended.  

As Poi rapidly broke his rod of [Treat Wounds], healing Erick, staunching the flow of blood from his nose and ears, and Kiri yelled about getting out of there, Erick briefly read the blue boxes in front of him, ignoring the one about it being a Basic Tier spell.

--

Control Weather 1, one minute, super long range, <500 mana + Variable>

Change the weather in a location. Effect lasts longer if desired weather and location are conducive to each other. Minimum duration: <1 day>. Maximum duration: <1 month>.  

Particle Mage Only.

--

Rozeta thanks you for enriching the Script.

+3 ability points.

--

Uh. Sininindi is going to be pissed. Try getting in front of that one, this time. ~Rozeta.

--

Somewhere in all of that, the sky changed. Clouds appeared. Light, fluffy things, for sure.  

But nothing else happened.  

Erick smiled weakly as Poi yelled at him to accept a [Teleport]. He mumbled something that was almost a ‘yes’, but his voice was broken, even with all Poi’s healing. Erick tried to joke about Poi being ‘unable to get it up’, having broken his 'rod', but it was a weak joke, and both Poi and Kiri just paled.  

And then some other force took a hold of his mind. Poi’s sapphire blue eyes got really big, or maybe it was an illusion of some sort. The world flickered blue, twice, and then Erick was in the admissions room of the Church hospital. He knew this place. But everything was tainted red. He had blood in his eyes, didn’t he?

Oh. He had forgotten to check in on the Mage Trio, didn’t he? Eh. He forgave himself. He had a lot of projects on his plate, after all. As he tried to look around, but failed, the only coherent thought he barely managed to form, was that he did not have time for whatever was happening right now, so if everyone could please just let him get back to work, that would be great.

And then he knew no more, as sleep took him, dragging him under, while multiple hands lifted him up.