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A cool wind blew from the north, curling across the orange sands of the Crystal Forest, catching on dunes and rocky outcroppings, as the sun beat down from the eastern sky. Brown worms poked up from the flatter, loamy parts of the Crystal Forest, eager to catch glowbugs drifting in the air, while Mimics on the eastern sides of the dunes were already positioned to enjoy the warming morning light. As the day wore on, and warmth turned to heat, the worms would retreat underground, while the mimics followed the sun across dunes, keeping up appearances only when no one was watching.  

Mostly, no one watched them, aside from the worms and crystal spinehogs, and the occasional errant school of flying fish, and wandering wyrm. At a disturbance, the worms would duck down into the soil, while mimics pondered their response. If the disturbance was small and directly next to them, they would rush to eat whatever vibrated the land. If the disturbance was medium sized, they might rush away, or pretend nothing had happened. In the case of a sandstorm, or other event where the entire sky and the Crystal Forest vibrated from horizon to horizon, the mimics hunkered down.

But today, when there were no visible disturbances aside from the wind blowing sand, the mimics were agitated. They tinkled and chimed their fake-crystal leaves in a way that was very much not a natural product of the wind. They scurried a bit from left to right, or to the north, or to the south, trying to find whatever was out there, but their uneasy movements revealed nothing.  

The sky was blue, and endless. Perfectly normal.

But the wind was different.  

- - - -

Erick stood atop the short wall that separated the rolling hills of the Ranch from the deep blue waters of the Lake. Cows, brown and black and mottled, mooed into the air as they bounced across fields of clover and wildflowers and dense green grass. Wind tickled from the north, blowing ripples in the surface of the Lake—

Startled at a sudden thought, Erick said, “The smell is going to wash up the walls, into the city.”

Apogee, the only dragonkin Erick had ever seen with a tail, laughed. It was just the two of them, and Poi, out here on the wall in the center of Spur’s expansion. Erick had finished the final rain a little bit ago, bringing the Lake up to size, and watering the Ranch.  

Apogee said, “I’ve got cowgrass planted all over to keep down the smell and I’ll pick up the dung beetles next week, after there’s something for them to eat.” He pointed south, to the line of trees growing near the wall. “Scent trees will keep down most of the smell, but if it gets bad, I’ll just cover the place in [Scent Ward]s. Besides! This ain’t no nation-sized meat farm; don’t go expecting me to have a thousand herd of cattle out here.”

Erick counted a little, and saw maybe forty cows in sight. “How many are there out there?”

“Two hundred fifty.” Apogee added, “Got chickens coming to the Ranch next month to take up the rest of the space.”

Erick saw a tail stick up from the taller grass. He asked, “Cats are already here?”

“Aye.” Apogee said, “Missoli’s cats are already out there, taking care of the usual pest species.”

“What do they hunt besides chickens?”

Apogee barked a laugh. “Hopefully they won’t hunt any chickens! But that’s a fool’s thought.” He pointed with a talon, saying, “That’s one of the things they hunt, right there.”

Erick watched as a large black beetle lifted from the ground, maybe twenty meters away. It was about the size of a head, and shiny black. Erick barked his own laugh, for he had definitely heard of those black bugs before, and one had even scared Jane awake almost a year ago when the he and her were camping out under the stars, and very fresh to Veird. But he had never seen one before.

“I haven’t spared a thought about those bugs in a long time,” Erick said.

“Not surprising, if you don’t camp outside all that often.” Apogee said, “Bed bugs don’t like to be out in the day, or this visible, but the pregnant ones get extra hungry. Cats love ‘em, though.”

A trio of dark shapes prowled through the grasses behind the bed bug, while the bed bug hovered behind a gently grazing cow. The bug landed on the cow’s back, but the cow didn’t even register the bug’s weight. It must have kept itself in flight, somehow. Maybe it used [Airshape]? Or maybe it was an [Anti-Gravity Ward] effect. A lot of animals out there had spell-like abilities.  

A trickle of blood slipped down the cow’s side as the bed bug dug into the skin. The cow didn’t seem to notice. The cow certainly noticed the cats, though, as one wild-clawed feline leapt through the air, tacking the bug off of the cow, drawing more lines of blood as the bed bug’s claws tore across its hide. The cow bucked. The cat landed with the bug in its jaw and claws. While the cow raced away, the other two cats, which Erick just now noticed were much smaller than the first one, leapt in to help kill the beetle. Maybe a parent teaching their cubs how to hunt? They won their battle and got their meal, while the cow just mooed, loudly.

Erick asked, “Is the cow going to be okay?”

“Cows get hurt like that all the time, but they’re bred to heal fast. They couldn’t survive out here if they couldn’t.” Apogee said, “Shadowolves, you know.” He added, “That cat’s takedown was picture perfect. I don’t doubt that she’s killed a few shadowolves in her time.”

“Really?” Erick asked, disbelieving.  

“Oh yeah.” Apogee said, “Cats hunt in trios and quads when they can, while the wolves tend to hunt alone.” He shrugged, adding, “But cats prefer an easy meal like anyone, so I expect to lose some chickens.”

Erick asked, “How do you keep the cats from overpopulating?”

“Spaying and neutering, of course.”

“Hah! I didn’t know they did that, here.”

Apogee smirked, saying, “It’s a specialty Healer’s spell. [Sterile]. Some people get it done on themselves, too, since it’s reversible with a [Treat Wounds].” He added, “[Sterile] comes from [Inflict Wounds].” He paused. He said, “Yup. That’s right.”

Erick asked, “So where are your cinnamon trees? You got your clippings, didn’t you?”

“I did!” Apogee said, “They’re past that hill, to the north, along with the yeaster flower and sweetgrain.”

Erick saw leafy greenery poking out behind the main hills of the Ranch, but there wasn’t that much there. Maybe three or four trees? Five? The wall behind that greenery was not much taller than the trees, which reminded Erick that if they were, then the mimics outside the walls would see the greenery, and swarm to take it down. Erick almost asked about trees for the cows, too, but Apogee was one step ahead of his questions.

Apogee pointed to some stone circle here and there on scattered hilltops, saying, “I got trees for the cows coming along, too. Roofing trees. They’re big flat things that do well in deserts, so I don’t have to worry about them getting enough water being on tops of the hills; they’ll grow all the way over to the Lake, eventually. I’ll work on getting those to size, later today.”

“It looks good, Apogee.” Erick turned around, and said, “The Lake looks good, too.”

The waters were crystal clear at the surface, with blue lilies floating on the edges, but the Lake quickly turned dark blue as meters of water piled up. The Lake was twenty meters to the bottom at the deepest parts. It had been expanded somewhere between the initial designs and this current iteration, both to keep it cooler to prevent excess evaporation, and to allow future fish that liked their water deeper. Erick hadn’t really noticed the extra depth until today. Mostly, he had just sent Ophiel out here to rain whenever Erick felt like raining, which was actually rather often.

Apogee gazed upon the Lake with him, smiling, as he asked, “Do you know how hard it is to get a life like this, Erick?”

“What do you mean?”

“A goal, a community, a family that’s doing well.”  

“That’s the dream, for sure.” Erick added, “It’s been rough, but I doubt I had the same problems as you. I’m still finding my way, too; every day.”

Apogee glanced to Erick, saying, “From what I hear, Fork is gonna have your [Gate] nonsense sorted out soon enough. That’s gonna be difficult for you.” He looked to the Lake. “I tried to help this world for a while, like you have, using what I knew. For a while there, I even got rid of my original body to blend in. But that was a mistake. That’s when...” He frowned. He went silent.

The man obviously wanted to talk about his trouble with someone that might understand him, but he wasn’t able, yet. Erick wanted to talk to him, too, but he wasn’t going to push.  

So Erick turned the topic to an easier subject, “Any idea what kind of fish are going in the Lake?”

Apogee happily said, “Rainbow flits. Goldscale slippers. Striped silvertail. They’re a well established trio of fish that are great for reservoirs, and they taste good, too.” He smiled again, as he said, “I really love Spur. It’s one of the only places I could ever get to do something like this. Ah! But it is good to be a part of the upper class.”

Erick smiled. “Is that what you are?”

“You’re in the ruling class of Spur, too.” Apogee said, “You didn’t have to wade through a decade of shit to get there, either.”

“Heh.” Erick smiled. Then he lost his smile. Then he whispered, “I’m part of the ruling class?”

“Call it what you will. Spur is basically a small kingdom, but without those awful noble families. Instead of them you got people like you and the guildmasters.” Apogee said, “I’m glad I’m done with that life, though. Retirement is the best.”

“… I never thought of it like that.”

“You didn’t?” Apogee said, “That’s one of the only reasons I came to Spur. Almost went to Outpost, but they pissed me off. I forget why, though.”

For a long moment, Erick looked out across the Lake, and thought. He was part of the ruling class of Spur? No. But at the same time… Maybe? Maybe he was? Ah. No. He wasn’t. But from a certain angle, it was possible to see him as a part of Spur’s elite. He sat at the table when all the archmages and heads of the city came together to see Candlepoint appear on viewing screens. Poi even said that Silverite and Spur tried to get behind him on all his decisions, because he brought the rain and food and large enough spells to clear the entire city of monsters. But he had never really made an unpopular decision before…

Except his choice to let the Flare Couatl kill Hunters while Messalina searched for the Cinnabar Hand.

Or just the other day, when he decided to play along with the shadelings of Candlepoint, for now, and give them food so they weren’t starving. Now that, was an unpopular decision. But Silverite let it happen. There were caveats, of course, but it was allowed to continue.  

But. Ruling class? Erick wasn’t really comfortable with that. But maybe that was the truth?

Erick said, “Ruling class?”

“You shot up to the top of the pile rather fast.” Apogee said, “I had to become the guildmaster for a Wayfarer branch before I was allowed in on decisions that affected the city.” He smirked, saying, “All you had to do was invent a new form of magic.” He laughed. “I tried to do that, but it didn’t work quite right.”

“What did you try to do?”

“Get home; Spatial Magic.” Apogee sighed as he looked out across the Lake. He turned back to the Ranch, saying, “But this is good. This is better. This is what I want. Thanks, Erick, for making it happen.”

Erick smiled. He asked, “Say. Did you ever happen to find out how to make artifacts while you were out there, searching Veird?”

“Nope.” Apogee said, “That was one of my big searches, too. Every mage tries for that at some point in their lives. Only thing I ever found out was that normal people make self-sustaining, barely used, stationary artifacts, like a Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove, but only Shades and Gods make handheld varieties.”

Erick nodded. “I think a real artifact is gonna be my next project. Gotta spread my spells out to others so that I’m not a point of failure when this war breaks out.”

Apogee smiled at Erick, flashing sharp white teeth, as he said, “Then more strength to you.” He pointed to the barn, adding, “I got cows to feed, and trees to [Grow]. See you around.”

“Good luck making that cinnamon alcohol.” Erick joked, “Don’t go blind drinking your own whiskey.”

Apogee laughed, saying, “I haven’t done that in decades!” as he blipped away in a bronze flash.

Erick smiled. He turned back to the Lake.  

After a minute of watching the surface waves, he asked, “How bad is evaporation going to be? Someone has done the calculations, right? ‘Cause I’m not gonna.”

Poi said, “The three fish Apogee mentioned work in concert to keep water fresh and stable in almost all conditions, and this includes preventing excess evaporation. It’s not perfect, though, and definitely not good enough to keep a non-oasis lake around in the Crystal Forest.” He said, “But the normal light showers that need to happen over the Ranch should be good enough for the Lake, too.”

Erick hummed. Poi’s idea of the needs of the Lake and the Ranch were in line with Erick’s own, but maybe there was a better way. Erick had sent a message through Poi to Silverite, earlier. Maybe she had approved his idea? Erick asked, “Has Silverite said anything about [Control Weather], yet?”

Poi looked to the air. After a moment of checking with the streamers of intent around his head, he turned back to Erick. “She’s thinking about it, but she has not consulted others and we’re not quite sure what your spell will look like in the Crystal Forest. Right now she’s leaning toward ‘yes’, but she needs more information. She has suggested that you throw this spell over Candlepoint, if they will let you. It would lead to less of your own involvement in the city, they can spend magic to conjure moisture from a sky full of clouds, if they need it, and we’ll have a test run of the spell’s capabilities and environmental impact.”

Erick thought for a moment. He said, “That’s a good point.” He shrugged. “And if they say no, I could just make a plot of green forest out there somewhere. There’s no shortage of space, out there.”

Poi nodded.

Erick thought. He said, “Actually! I’ve decided: I going to do that, anyway. Just to see if I can.” He smiled. I wonder what Sininindi will think of— Ah! Drat. I forgot to put in my tithe to the Church. Let’s go do that, Poi.” He held his hand out to Poi. “Think I can blip directly into the Bank?”  

Poi frowned. “If we must do this quickly, please [Teleport] to the Mage Guild, instead. They have spaces for this, and the Bank is runed against [Teleport].”

“Fair enough!”

Poi took Erick’s hand. The two of them flashed white, blipping away.

- - - -

The trip to the bank was a really, really nice trip.

Erick had wanted to set up his account to automatically give 1.5 percent of monthly earnings to the Church, and also to check his balance, his deposits, and everything else about his bank account. They led Erick to a nice, partially private room just off the banking floor, where a nice young man served him hot tea, where he waited for an older woman teller to prepare and deliver all of his banking information. The greyscale worked fast. Erick only had to wait ten minutes while all of his information was gathered. The greyscale gently advised him that if he did not wish to wait, that he could always make an appointment, but Erick wasn’t in any rush.

When his information was finally brought to him, he was at first, bewildered. And then he was happy.

Like, really, really happy.

“Oh my gods,” Erick breathed out, reading the numbers the teller had given him. He was filthy rich. Beyond the necessary amount to live, for sure. He contained his happiness to a simple overflowing smile. Reading a slightly different set of numbers, he saw ten different deposits for 25,000 gold in the last three weeks, along with a lump sum 131,000 gold paid in the last few days, all from the same account. That account was number 000-000-001. It had to be the Headmaster’s. Holy shit, that was a lot of money! Erick mumbled, “The Light Slime dungeon must be working well.” He smiled wider. He giggled. He laughed. He said, “It’s time to start enchanting again!”

The teller asked, “Will you be wishing to withdraw any rads today?”

“No no no.” Erick said, “I’m gonna hunt for those. I will need a way to use this money to pay for materials, though. Metals and such.”

The teller nodded, and said, “Any Mage Guild Bank the world over will be able to draw on your funds, as per usual, but getting liquid funds does take time.”

“Right. Right. I already knew that. Oh!” Erick said, “I need to set up a 1.5% monthly tithe on earning to the Interfaith Church of Spur.”

“Easily accomplished.” The greyscale pulled out a drawer behind her desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper. “One percent is normal. Are you sure you wish for 1-point-5?”

“Yes.”

The greyscale began writing.

Erick signed and dated five sheets of paperwork. It was the most paperwork Erick had done in the last year, not counting Oceanside studying, of course. Erick got out of the Bank feeling a lot better about his own stability, and the fact that he could easily afford the promise he had made to Delia. That was never in doubt, not really. But actually seeing the number in front of him, and not being drunk like he was yesterday, really helped to cement that he was doing rather well in this strange world.

Still… ‘Ruling Class’? Erick didn’t like that.

- - - -

After the Bank, Erick thought no more about his supposed ‘political status’ as he turned his thoughts to enchanting and [Control Weather] and other issues. He had walked out of the Mage Guild to get to the Bank, but now he walked back into the Mage Guild, looking to solve some more problems and pick up some more answers from the Guild Library. Both times he looked for Anhelia, but both times she was not there at the front desk.

Anhelia caught up to him while he was speaking to the orangescale librarian, Tamarim, about finding specific books.  

Anhelia did not look happy, exactly, upon seeing Erick, but she didn’t look angry, either. Her iron ‘skin’ was creased, while her eyes seemed slightly hollow. Was it possible for wrought to age? Or was she just tired? Whatever the case, Erick was glad she was here. What had she learned about Candlepoint since last they spoke?

“Ah, good. You are here today,” Erick said, as he turned away from Tamarim. “I didn’t see you out there when I came through the first time.”

Anhelia said, “I need to speak with you.” She sent, ‘I am very busy, so it will be quick, and [Telepathy] is good enough of a security barrier.’

Erick paused. He tentatively sent, ‘Okay. You seem distraught? Is something wrong?’

‘I will be blunt: Are you working with the Shades?’

Erick had a supreme moment of disbelief. He smiled a little. Was Anhelia fucking with him? Surely she must be fucking with him. But as the moment came and went, and she studied Erick with serious eyes, her words weren’t funny anymore. Disbelief turned to hurt, turned to anger, then rage. Rage was quickly subsumed by utter disconnect, as Erick felt unmoored; lost, and not himself.  

He had been accused of some pretty awful things during his lifetime. From child neglect, when Jane was in gradeschool and always so angry, to purposefully harming the lives of those he tried to guide through the byzantine systems of assistance back on Earth, to even worse accusations by people seemingly much angrier than Anhelia.  

When people got angry that they didn’t get what they wanted, and needed, they lashed out at whoever was nearby. It was a truth as universal here as it was on Earth. With that in mind, was Anhelia lashing out, right now? Or was she genuinely testing Erick on his loyalty to the cause? Erick would have thought an 800 year old person would be beyond a primal, emotional response.  

So? Was this a test of some sort?

Erick soothed his anger down, down, down. He breathed. He breathed again. He looked her straight in the eyes, and sent, ‘No. I want to kill them all.’

Anhelia looked into his eyes, too. ‘Then why did you give Bulgan a specific trigger to start the war? That puts the power in his pocket and you deeper into their shit.’ She rapidly demanded, ‘Are you working with them?’

‘I am not working with the Shades. But I am starting to reconsider working with you.’ Erick sent, ‘I am ending this conversation here, before we both end up saying something irreparably hurtful.’

Anhelia sent, ‘If you can’t handle harsh questions—’

‘I can handle a lot, Anhelia, but I can’t handle being compared to a Shade.’ He stared at her, ‘Are you coming at me because I don’t want to see people hurt? Because I need to feed and uplift those who are unwitting puppets, but who could also become their own people, if given time?’

‘Shadelings are disposable tools of the Shades, Erick. You are forgetting this essential fact.’

‘I am not forgetting anything, but I will admit that I am trying to see past their origins in a way that is perhaps foolish.’ His thoughts laced with venom, as he sent, ‘All I can say, is that it’s gonna hurt me something deep and horrible when they finally drop the act and I have to kill them all.’

Anhelia frowned at Erick for a long moment. Then she cut their mental connection, lost her frown, and walked away.  

Erick was too mad to look at books right now, but he tried to play off what had happened; there were students sitting in desks nearby trying not to look at him, and sweating a bit too much to be natural. He put on a happy face, and turned back to the librarian’s desk.  

Tamarim stopped staring at him from the corner of his eyes, from two meters away. He fully faced Erick, plastering on his own smile, as he stepped closer. “So where were we? Enchanting?”

Erick listed his needs, “How to enchant a Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove. Weather patterns from Farmer’s Almanacs, or whatever sources you deem useful for understanding the weather and wind patterns of the Crystal Forest. I also want some books on the uses of auras, or aura work, or something to give an overview of what an aura is capable of achieving.” Erick paused. He had a brilliant thought that demanded he act upon it, so that would come next. He said to Tamarim, “I’ll come back for it all, later.”

Tamarim nodded, saying, “Sure thing, archmage.”

“Thank you, Tamarim.”

Erick got the hell out of there, and went to a friend’s house.

- - - -

The Sewerhouse was only two stories tall.

That was the first thing that Erick noticed, and that tore him out of his anger at Anhelia. The gold building had been three stories tall for quite a while. Ever since Erick and Jane had opted to live upstairs, in fact, back when they were first finding their feet. But even when the place was rebuilt after the Red Dot attack it had remained at three stories so that Savral and Bacci could move in together up there.  

Why was the Sewerhouse only two stories tall, now?

His anger at Anhelia temporarily forgotten, Erick strode past the wardlight slime sculptures near the entrance, through the open double doors. Purplescaled Bacci stood behind the main counter, where grain and powder sized rads were on display under glass, for sale to the public. Her face fell for a moment, before she put on a professional smile.  

Savral was nowhere to be seen. He usually stood next to the door, wearing his big black armor. Instead, there was a stranger. An orcol man in steel armor. This man flinched as Erick’s appraising glance raced from the man’s helmet to his greaves, but remained silent.

Erick tore his gaze away from the steel encased man, then thumbed at the stranger as he asked Bacci, “What’s going on?”

Bacci’s smile faltered. She said, “Hello, archmage. If you’re looking for Al, he’s out in the city, helping people close up in time for the Ballooning Spiders.”

Erick had, of course, seen the new stone bars and smaller windows that had been put up across the city, as well as various shaping crews doing the [Stoneshape]ing, but that wasn’t why Erick was here. His purpose in coming here was at least two fold. He wanted to know more about auras from the person who had turned him on to auras and the Focus Stat in the first place, and he wanted to know more about what had happened last night. Erick barely remembered any of it, and some of it might not have actually happened.

But now, Erick latched on to the only question he had, “Did something happen to Savral?”

Bacci frowned. “A lot has happened to that man. Did you not know? Did Al not speak to you about any of this?”

“I have no idea what is happening right now, Bacci.” Erick said, “Except for seeing Al last night at the bar and with Mog, he’s been distant. What happened to Savral?”

Bacci looked bewildered for a moment, then said, “Savral is gone.”  

“What!”

“It’s… complicated. It started when we had a fight last week.” Bacci explained, “He’s been forgetful ever since the Red Dot. Small things, usually. Not that important. He’s still him. But… he was having trouble with cooking some steaks. He forgot his spices. I kept saying he was missing bluebottle. He kept saying that bluebottle didn’t taste right to him; that it was the wrong answer. I don’t know how it got larger than that, but it did. Al got involved. Anger happened—” She shut her mouth. She continued, “He left the Sewerhouse, and I moved back in with my old roommate. The rest of his team is already chasing him down, trying to find wherever he went.” She got mad, demanding, “Did Al not ask you to help look for him?”

“No. He did not.”  

Bacci glared. “I don’t know what the fuck happened between you two, but that’s just asinine!” She asked, “Would you help look for him?”  

Erick summoned an Ophiel, and then another, and sent them outside the city, “Of course I’ll help! I didn’t even know—”

“You didn’t know, because I didn’t want you to know.”  

Erick turned around. Al stood in the doorway to the Sewerhouse. Al glanced at the guy in plate armor. The guy just nodded, then stepped out of the building, closing the double doors behind him.  

Al said to Bacci, “I told you not to involve Erick.”

Bacci threw her arms up, saying, “He came here! And someone had to involve him! You weren’t!”

“Bacci.” Al calmly said, “I am saying this as nicely as I can: You need to stop pushing Savral. I already know where he is, and so does the rest of his team. The only one who hasn’t been told is you, because you need to stop pushing him.”

Bacci’s eyes glittered purple as she spat fire, saying, “You utter asshole! I cannot believe that—”

“Leave, now, before we both start saying things we regret.” Al said, “Take a few days to get over your anger.”

Bacci went still. Her eyes glowed fully purple. She stared at Al. Al stared at her. Bacci tore her gaze away from Al as she stepped away from the counter. Without looking at anyone else, she opened the doors to the Sewerhouse, and walked away. She said something nasty to the new guy out there about snitching to the boss, but the new guy said nothing to her.

Al turned to Poi.

Poi stepped away, and out the doors. He shut them behind him.  

Al turned to Erick. “Hello, again.”

“What’s happened, Al?” Erick asked, deeply concerned. “Is Savral okay? I mean. Obviously he’s not. But? What’s going on?”

“It is not your concern, but thank you anyway.” Al put on a smile. The large, brown orcol man stepped to the side of the sales floor and sat down on a large, plush chair, next to one of the four fountains of the room. He gestured to a similar chair, across from his. “Come. Sit down. I would like to talk.”

Erick took a seat. “Good I want to talk too— Uh...”  

Al looked deeply uncomfortable. Ah. Shit. This was about last night, wasn’t it?

Al breathed deep. He centered himself, and said, “So. You helped someone with their Aloethag given Quest, recently.”

“… That’s not at all where I thought you were going with this.”

Al nodded. “Yes. Well. If you had thought that I would ever willingly talk about hidden facts of orcol society, I would have been surprised. I am glad to see that Mind Mage confidentiality remains intact. None of us orcols like to talk about it, but it must be done in this case.” He paused. He asked, “Did you truly believe that there would be no repercussions from spilling blood in the name of a Goddess?”

“When you say it like that, obviously I should have seen something coming.” Erick asked, “But what about Savral?”

Al blinked long, then said, “My son is fine. His team is keeping watch over him, as he would have done for them.” He added, “We are not talking about Savral. We are talking about what you did for Aloethag, and what she enabled to happen between you, me, and Mog.”

Erick frowned, saying nothing, trying to understand what was happening.

“Gods above, I almost feel like your teacher again.” Al continued, “In the process of adding blood to the Red Ocean, you have become a part of the Red Ocean. Since you are not an orcol, most of that does not matter. But it does open a certain part of yourself to the rest of us.” He asked, “What do you think happened last night?”

“I went to the bars with Teressa to celebrate her Quest completion...” Erick looked at Al. “None of that happened, did it?”

“I’m sure you did go to the bars. But I was asleep in my bed upstairs. When I was out in the city this morning, I talked to Mog. She was also asleep last night.” He breathed deep. He said, “Starting from the beginning, here is what you must understand: The Rage is not an affliction. It is a part of us, like a leg or an ear, but it does not exist individually. It is an ocean in which every orcol existence flows together. Some call it the Dreaming. I was raised to call it the Red Ocean. Orcols are naturally born with this part of themselves connecting them to everyone else in their tribe, while larger individuals form the basis for rivers between communities. Some say that the Red Ocean is a variation of the power of the Mind Mage, and that is likely true. But for us, it is a community bond. A bond that has been usurped by Aloethag.

“For her part, she stabilizes the Red Ocean, to ensure that when one person Rages, the rest of us don’t follow them to War. Some see her as Evil for doing this, for taking our power for herself, but most see her as an unfortunate necessity.  

“But because of her position and power, she is able to induct others into the Red Ocean. I’m sure you can see where this is going.” He asked, “How much blood was your Quest for?”

Erick suddenly felt like he was in very deep shit. He said, “Ten million.”

“Ten million?!” Al stared at the ceiling. He repeated, quieter, “Ten million… I guess she saw an opportunity, so she took it. You’re going to have weird dreams for a year, at least. I’ve already spoken to Mog. She’s shoring up her own defenses, and I will do the same. I assume it was Teressa who Raged? She got the same Quest?”

Erick felt a profound embarrassment. What had he actually done? He muttered, “Yes.”  

Al said, “Good news: Unless something awful happens, she won’t have to worry about the Rage for ten years.”

“What’s the bad news?”

Al huffed a small laugh. “You’re going to have Red Dreams for a while. There likely won’t be a repeat between us three, now that Mog and I are on the lookout for such a thing. As long as you don’t have any strong feelings toward any other orcols, then that will be the extent of your problems.”

“Sorry.” Erick said, “I thought I was at the bar, and… I don’t remember most of it.” He said, “If this was my fault, I really did not mean to do that to you—”

“Stop. It wasn’t you that did this. It wasn’t anyone, really. Even Aloethag isn’t truly to blame, though she does bear a large part. All she did was give you the key, and you, unknowing, used it.” Al looked a bit uncomfortable, as he said, “Just… don’t think about it, too much. Every orcol goes through this when they’re younger. You’ll get a handle on it soon enough, and since you’re not an orcol, your connection to the Red Ocean will fade over time. It’s not a big deal if you don’t make it a big deal.”

Erick suddenly felt worried, on a very fundamental level. “I have to ask: Was this an… an involuntary sex act… Committed against you?”

Al sighed. “There is a major difference between what is done in the Red Ocean and what has happened in the Waking—”

“Was it a mind rape, Al?”

“What! Gods no!” Al shook his head in disbelief. “It just meant that everyone wanted it to happen, so it did!” He muttered, “Gods above. The Red Ocean as… That? No.” He frowned directly at Erick. “Don’t say that to anyone else. It was very rude.”

“… Oh.” Erick watched as Al’s face turned a shade darker. “Oh.”

Al had wanted that their connection to happen. And so had Mog. That’s why it happened.

Al said, “And it won’t happen again.”

Erick blanked. Then he joked, “So it’s like orcol puberty?”

Al leveled a frown at Erick. “I suppose, from a certain angle.”

“So that fact you shared about a shaped [Cleanse]—”

“Nope!” Al discarded an unwanted smile, quickly returning to a calm, if embarrassed, facade. “We’re not doing that.”

“Just a simple, consensual sex dream?”

Al said, “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Well… if it was consensual, then it could happen again. Maybe even for real this time. I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Al laughed. “I would break you.”

“Gotcha. I just need to learn [Greater Treat Wounds], first.” Erick nodded sagely. “I need to learn that spell, anyway.”

Al laughed again, tearing his sight away from Erick. Erick just watched, slightly smiling, as Al laughed louder, like he needed a laugh. Like he needed some joy in his life.  

Erick ruined the mood. “I’m sorry that Savral isn’t okay.”

Al came down from his joy. After a long moment, he said, “Savral was… hurt in the Red Dot attack, but he came back from that. It’s not good right now, but it’ll get better.” He said, “That’s what his friends tell me, anyway.”  

“Aside from all of that, how’ve you been?”

“… It’s been rough.” Al said, “Aside from last night’s dream, I probably could have enjoyed going out to an actual bar with you.”

Erick smiled wide. “Then let’s do that tonight!”

“Aye.” Al nodded. “Okay.” He sternly added, “It’s not a date, though.”

Erick smiled.  

- - - -

Feeling much better about a lot of things, including his friendship with Al, and a lot weirder about other things, including the Red Ocean, Erick made his way back to the Mage Guildhouse to pick up some books. The orangescale librarian, Tamarim, had gathered nine books to fulfill Erick’s triple request. Three on enchanting Grand [Prestidigitation] Stoves, one on the weather of the Crystal Forest, two on the weather of Veird, and three on auramancy. All of them were normal publications put out by the Arcanaeum Consortium, so Erick did not have read them there in the library, like a normal student of the arcane arts. He bought them all for a few hundred gold, total, and took them home.

Back home, he put on a pot of coftea, and sat down in his library to read.

After a while, Poi showed up.

“Sir.” Poi said, “Ballooning Spiders are dropping on Kal’Duresh. The Baroness is requesting your assistance with [Withering].”

Erick immediately closed his book on weather and set down his coftea. “Tell her that help is on the way. What about Spur, though?” He began summoning Ophiel. “When will they drop here?”

“Eventually. You will be informed when it happens.”

“That’s fine.” Erick had an idea. “Ask the Baroness if they’re okay with a bit of unconventional weather magic.”

Ophiels popped into the air, twittering in flutes. They were excited to be out and about. There was work to be done!

Poi looked to the air. After a moment, he came back to himself. “They already have Wind Mages working on diverting most of the swarm to outside the walls, using [Nature’s Fury] and other assorted spells. She is authorizing the use of [Withering], and nothing else.” He looked to Erick. “I think she thinks you’re talking about [Call Lightning].”

Erick almost spilled his coftea in surprise, “You ‘think’ that? Did you offer advice, Poi? Oh my gods!” Erick joked, “I must report you to your betters!”

Poi frowned.  

Erick smiled. He said, “Let her think what she wants. Tell her I just want the opportunity to try something that might work well.”

Poi eventually answered, “She says to go ahead.”

Erick smiled.  

- - - -

Kal’Duresh stood like a tiered wedding cake, atop rippling orange sands. Blue roofs adorned tall white towers and an uncountable number of white buildings, while a curving tree, larger than any tree had a right to be, snaked around the airy castle on top of the cake. It was not the idyllic landscape it appeared to be, for looking closer, it was obvious they were ready for war.

For atop every single blue roof, and hovering in much of the sky above the city, were mages.  

They were not the most populous thing in the air, though. That award went to their enemy; a cloud of spiders that stretched for kilometers in every direction, like an invading cloud.

Pure white, long limbed, and covered in too many eyes, the spiders descended from the endless blue sky; an endless horde of chittering, egg-laden invaders. Long streamers of near-invisible threads fluttered fro their backsides, buffeted by the heavy wind. Unintelligent spiders would have caught on to each other and tangled long before now, but these were not simple beasts; they were coordinated monsters. The largest of spiders in the horde had faint black lines running down their backs, from their eight eyes to their spinnerets. These coordinators, these mothers, each held together a loose assortment of their kind both in the physical, and in their arachnid minds, readying themselves for the feast arrayed before them in the city below.

The horde shifted.

Here and there, the largest spiders vanished from sight, invisible, taking with them whatever smaller spiders they controled. The descending cloud became a patchwork mess of unattended spiders who were already half dead, spent from the mating, but still ready to kill whatever enemy they could sink their fangs into. These visible spiders would draw the ire of the prey below, while the invisible mothers rapidly descended in controlled falls, avoiding bursts of wind from their prey designed to push them off course.  

The first Ophiel to blip into the swarm was instantly set upon by hidden monsters.  

The second Ophiel blipped closer to Kal’Duresh, into the sky just above the defenders of the city. A calm white orb formed around Ophiel, as thick air tore up from the ground like a sentient tsunami, like an ooze larger than the world had ever seen before, except for the last time this particular spell had been used. That ooze ripped into the descending horde, squeezing the life out of everything large enough to prove a major problem.  

Black striped mothers curled, dried, and died. They dropped to the ground. The invisible turned visible, and died.

Another Ophiel popped into the space between the Ballooning Spiders and the incani city. And then another. A fourth Ophiel appeared. As one, they set about constructing their own floating platforms, then filling with dense, restful air. Once they were prepared, they took their position against the monsters, and called the Withering Slime to Veird.

Gently glowing white spheres radiated tsunamis of thick-air ooze into the sky, pulling down every monster they could. After a moment, the original Ophiel on the scene constructed his own Saturn-like construct of floating platform and dense air, and took the fight back to the monsters.

Ophiel did the heavy lifting, but they could not get the smaller spiders or the unattended egg sacs. Tiny white spiders were just as deadly as the large ones. But they couldn’t turn invisible. They had no coordination.  

They were sitting ducks.  

Mages cast fire and ice, wind and rock, poison and radiant power, out against the invaders.  

But the horde kept coming. The spiders controlled vast stretches of air, funneling themselves toward the city below, toward their deaths, or to victory, whichever came was fine by them.

They did not care about dying. They had spent their lives well in advance of this day. They had even gathered the winds to them and chosen their target, knowing that a city was the harder, yet rewarding choice, as opposed to somewhere outside of this blighted desert. Those who survived and thrived against this culling would become stronger for it. They would become the next matriarchs Underworld.  

Some of them always survived, and that was enough.

Those still high in the sky directed streams of winds hundreds of meters wide against the wind thrown at them from those on the ground. The horde won. The surviving mothers pushed their forces forward, into the city, hoping that they could find food and power. They thought they knew what they were doing, but they had never come up against [Withering] before.  

And then the sky shifted, stealing from the horde the only power they truly had.

The shifting air was not the fury of nature directed by a mortal, but more like a pattern changing; a background turned to the right. An ocean of air deciding to alter course in a way it never had before.

The ocean carried the descending horde to the right. They were off course! They would hit the dreaded orange land! There was no coming back from that! The mothers panicked. They fought with all their might against the sky, controlling their kin to redirect the air, but the very sky had turned against them. They had lost the pattern. Fighting mages for control of the natural world was easy, but fighting the natural world? Impossible.

Maybe those who came after the front lines could do better. They usually did.

The horde fell to crystalline jaws.

- - - -

Erick left his Ophiel running for a while longer, but it probably wasn’t necessary. The Ballooning Spider Horde was falling onto the Crystal Forest. Mimics were already killing and eating white spiders for kilometers in every direction.  

Erick, still in his armchair, holding his book of weather open, said to Poi, “I didn’t go fully against the normal background winds, but I did turn the wind from notherlies, to easterlies. I’m not entirely sure, but I think the effect is something of a circular, diffusive change, beginning around five kilometers north of Kal’Duresh, and extending in every direction. I tried to turn the winds around completely, but the base casting cost was not enough to achieve such a change. As it is right now, the spell should remain in place for a day, according to the minimum duration listed in the spell’s box. I will have to do more experiments to find out more of what I have done.” He said, “If the Baroness wants to know what happened, that was it. Don’t tell her the name of the spell or what it does, exactly. I’ll keep Ophiel around to help with the stragglers.”

Poi nodded, then looked to the air. After a moment, he said, “She thanks you for your assistance and says that these hordes descend for anywhere from a day to three. She wishes for you to do whatever you did, again, if it comes to that. If your Ophiel could remain for now, then would be most acceptable.”

Erick smiled. “I like that. ‘Most acceptable’. Tell her that Ophiel will stay as long as needed, but if Spur gets an attack, too, then I must focus on here, of course.”

Poi nodded. After a moment, he said, “The Baroness accepts your terms.” He added, “Silverite has caught wind of what you did, and wishes to employ the same spell in front of Spur.”

“… did you make a joke there, Poi?”

Poi stood straight. “Entirely unintentional.”

Erick smiled. Then he sent an Ophiel out to change the weather to the north of Spur. He said, “Done. I did something slightly different north of Spur. There is now a corridor of wind maybe three kilometers thick and something like ten kilometers wide, traveling from the east to west. If the spiders manage to navigate that, then I can change it up again.”

Poi nodded.  

Erick asked, “Do you think the spiders will bother Frontier? They’d have to travel around Ar’Kendrithyst, first.”

“They might. Ballooning Spiders historically avoid Ar’Kendrithyst, but they can still hit Frontier.” He added, “Right now, they are literally all across the globe, mating in the skies. They can come down from literally anywhere.”

“Then when the spiders come for Frontier, I’ll do something for them, too.” He paused. He said, “Actually... Can you tell Silverite that she is free to negotiate prices for the same to be done for every city of the Crystal Forest? I’ll help anyone who wants help.”

“I’ll let her know.”

Erick went back to his book on weather patterns, thinking about the winds he had seen people cast from the roofs of Kal’Duresh, and the counter winds cast by the spiders. Nothing either side did was as powerful as the brief moment at that bar, so long ago, when he celebrated the creation of [Exalted Storm Aura], and Krakina painted the sunset sky with a brief [Nature’s Fury]. Her green winds briefly tore a tornado from above, before the Guard shut that down.  

 Erick smiled to himself, remembering Krakina’s cackling laugh. What would she think of him messing around with prevailing winds?

She’d probably get angry.

- - - -

Hours had passed, while Erick read.  

It was a simple fact that magic used in a precise way, along established paths, cost less and did more. Nowhere was this fact more true, than in Erick’s own Particle Magic. This was why he wanted to find out more about the natural weather of the Crystal Forest. Small changes to vast systems would likely last longer, and cost less to change.  

An object in motion can be deflected a heck of a lot easier than being shot right back to where it came from, right?

… But… Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. [Reflection Ward] was pretty cheap, after all.

Anyway! In the vast majority of cases, changing a system in small ways was easier. According to Erick’s reading, and his own experiences, the Crystal Forest had roughly three seasons. Water Season, which was basically Spring. Wyrm Season, Dry Season, Oh God Why Is It So Hot, and Summer, were all the same season. Dry Season lasted well over over into Autumn, and was almost as hot as Hot Season. Then came Sandstorm Season, which was Winter, and also not. The Crystal Forest did not truly experience Winter, except at night, when the normal chill of the loss of the sun became something much deeper. But there was certainly no snow.  

Erick kinda missed snow.

The prevailing winds of the Crystal Forest were well known. In the east, the wind blew south. In the north, the wind blew south. In the south, but only near the coast, the wind changed it up a bit, blowing from land to the ocean at night, and from the ocean to the land, in other words, to the north, during the day. And in the west, it was back to northerlies.  

A high powered jet stream ran along the coast of the Crystal Forest, flowing from west to east, chasing the sun.  

According to everything Erick read, he did not think his [Weather Control] would last very long. It might not even last a full day. Increasing the spell’s level, by casting it as much as he had, had done nothing to increase the duration of the magic. It was still ‘minimum: 1 day, maximum: 1 month.’  

And since there was nothing natural about northerly winds suddenly shifting to easterlies, the spell was surely running out of power. Probably rather fast, too. Thankfully, Ballooning Spiders didn’t have [Dispel].

… How did [Dispel] work when the spell was spread out over ten kilometers?

Something to investigate, right there!

 Erick checked on the state of Kal’Duresh, through the Ophiel still stationed there. The sky was still raining dead, dying, and tiny spiders, and they were definitely getting funneled off to the west, but some of them had regrouped, and changed tactics.  

Deep in the winds, some of them were putting out more threads, to catch the air and divert their destination back into the sky, to rejoin the greater horde up above. Erick frowned. That was just leaving an enemy for another day, and that would not do. He recast his spell, but this time he put more thought into his magic.

Wind curled overhead, easterlies becoming northerlies once again, but cold, while a heavy and hot ocean of air, just above the ground, pushed upward. The combined effect took a moment, but it happened fast enough. Dust devils sprang from the ground, catching orange sands into tight funnels that reached upward into the sky. Spiders tumbled directly down from the above, their many threads tangling into one, uncontrollable mass.

Erick cast a [Withering] into the land below, but kept it above the actual ground; he wanted the mimics to take care of those who managed to make it through the storm, since they were the simple solution, here.

Tornadoes of dead spiders crashed into the ground, kilometers from Kal’Duresh. Mimics swarmed and began killing what Erick could not.

Eh. He didn’t really need the mimics, did he? No. Erick moved an Ophiel into the area. Ophiel supplied his [Domain of the Withering Slime], killing everything, while Erick tinkered with [Control Weather], aiming to pull down more spiders, faster and faster. He added [Shimmer]s on the ground, turning sand molten with heat, setting corpses on fire, providing more sources of upward wind.  

--

Shimmer X, long range, 1 minute per level, 250 MP

Tiny specks of incandescent heat fill a large space, igniting flammable objects and dealing <damage>. <Shimmer can gain or lose damage based on the material inside the spell>.

--

He almost added [Wintry Sea]s to the sky, to create more falling, heavy air, but his short attempt at that proved to destabilize the whole system, as the errant blue spells went wild, and usually crashed to the ground, searching for targets to murder. He stuck with [Shimmer], and heat, for now.

At the height of his control, he had three tornadoes going at once.  

Three, almost natural tornadoes!  

Well. Not actual tornadoes. They were only maybe a dozen meters across, and all they did was rip up sand and rip down spiders, sending smoking corpses up and down a columns of hot air. They were more like dust devils, than true tornadoes. Erick probably needed to add [Call Lightning], to make a real storm, to make a tornado or three. There was just not enough moisture in the atmosphere of the Crystal Forest for the heat transfers necessary for tornadoes to properly form.  

But his three dust devils became large enough to tear down the horde, anyway.

So that was cool.

Erick smiled as he cast another [Control Weather], shaping what was already there into a more perfect form. Three dust devils became four, and that was super cool.

And look, the spell had leveled to 10.  

--

Control Weather X, 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.

--

Still no change in the box, though.  

Erick went back to the Ophiel overlooking the storm. The first dust devil had risen an hour ago, with subsequent mini-tornadoes rising soon after. By now, most of the sky was clear of spiders. Maybe it would stay that way? Had Erick pulled down the whole horde? He looked at his most recent notifications, and picked one of the tumbling blue boxes at random. It was much easier to count kills now that his listings weren’t in alphabet base 26.  

--

You have slain Ballooning Spider 1,574,971!

95% participation!

+12,789,555 exp

--

Not all of them were worth that much experience; most were worth considerably less. But they were all called the same thing, and since they were all called the same thing, and since Ballooning Spider attacks were well documented, at 1-point-5 million kills, Erick knew he had gone through roughly 75% of the attack. Maybe more, maybe less. Horde sizes varied, but not by much. The kills were slowing down, of course, but Erick suspected the attack on Kal’Duresh would not even last into the night.

Erick renewed a few choice pockets of [Shimmer] on the ground. Dried spider bodies turned to broken flames as dust devils carried bright sparks and burning corpses into the air. That done, he went back to reading.  

Weather was pretty interesting stuff! A lot of people had done a lot of magical experimentation on the subject before, but most of what his book talked about was conjecture, observational studies, and magical theory. Not many people, and certainly not the people who wrote this book, could just up and control the weather, proving their theories as true or false.

Maybe he should write some of these people letters, letting them know if they were on the right track, or not.

Ah! He almost forgot about the rads! Some of them had burned up, for sure, but the battlefield was absolutely littered with dried corpses, for kilometers in every direction.

Ophiels began summoning Jewels, while Erick did the same. Soon, the battlefield was littered with knife wielding crystals, chopped up corpses —some still burning—, and piles and piles of rads.

- - - -

Erick showed up at Al’s Sewerhouse just before sunset. The golden building was closed for the night, but the lights were on upstairs. A quick telepathic connection brought Al outside. He looked pretty great. He wore black, as usual, and a smile. Erick hadn’t dressed up much, himself, but he was ready for wherever the night took him. First, he wanted dinner, though.  

Erick greeted Al, “Hey, Al! I’m hungry. Let’s eat. my treat. I’ve just killed Ballooning Spider number two million.” Erick smiled. “Definitely did not get that many rads out of them, though. But it’s a lot, so far.”

Al returned Erick’s smile, seeming to relax as his shoulders shook with a small laugh. “I could always eat. Have you ever been to The Regian’te?”  

“Nope. Sounds fancy, though.” Erick pulled at his shirt. “Not sure if I’m dressed well enough.”

Al smirked. “This is Spur. We get all types, here. I’m sure they won’t care.”

“Then lead the way!”

Al led the way. They spoke of news and people they had recently met. Al spoke of rookies messing up the sewers, while Erick said he had still never been down there, ever. Erick spoke of magic, and auras, and Al opened up like a burst damn. He loved aura magic, and math, and it showed in his speech and his happy face.

They made it to the Regian’te. It was the top floor of a ten story building, situated near the Mage District. It was fancy. Expensive fabrics on the tables. Drinks in cut crystal glasses. Menus with only three items on them. Mood lighting, and mostly private booths. Erick must have been the least properly dresses person in sight, but no one cared about how he dressed, or that he did not have a reservation.  

While Poi and Kiri shared a seat at the table behind them, Al and Erick sat down at one of the nicest tables, with a full view of Spur in the east. There were no skyscrapers in this city, but stone buildings got pretty tall. Erick commented on the buildings. Al said something about how that’s the highest they can build with stone; it breaks on its own if you don’t build right. Whatever the case, the city was a pretty sight, for sure. Lights shone along building edges, and inside apartment buildings and business spaces, giving brilliance to the deepening night.  

“I’m not used to being the second person recognized when I walk in a building,” Al joked, as the waiter filled their glasses with water. He said, “We haven’t done this in a while.”

“Projects have gotten away from me, so that’s my excuse.” Erick asked, “What’s yours?”

“Hangups, mostly.” Al said, “So, I was saying about Auras, natural versus magical.”

Erick smiled. Al had already gone over all the basics on the walk over here, explaining what Aurify did, and what Erick already knew based on his own experimentation. Al had almost become an Auramancer in his younger years, but while he kept that thread of interest alive, he had eventually opted into Stone Mage. As for his particular variant of Stone Mage? He communicated that to Erick with silent [Telepathy], for secrecy’s sake.   

Al’s Class was Stone Mage. Just Stone Mage. Nothing special. Erick punched him in the arm for that, but Al just laughed.

Al said, “Natural auras came first, of course. It is suspected, but Rozeta has never confirmed, that we get Health and Mana from a shift of the naturally occurring aura that any being with a soul possesses.”

“I could see that.”

Al nodded. He almost spoke, but instead paused, as the waiter came by for their decisions. This wasn’t the kind of place that had many options on their menu, because what you ordered was one of three options, and they paired everything else with what they were serving, and that included drinks. When that was taken care of, and Al had ordered the steak, and Erick had too, Al continued, “The best magical auras, meaning those with the most damage and control it is possible for an individual to achieve, all involve taking your natural aura and pairing it with the best spells that represent you, as an individual. But you can also go the other way, and start with a spell you really like, and thus mold your self and your aura to better fit your magic. That second way takes years, though. You’ve probably already figured this out, but you already have better control over your [Exalted Storm Aura] these days, than you did in the beginning, right?”

Erick thought about that. “I don’t really know about that. I have gotten better with landing the spell exactly where I want it to land, but not by much.”

Al smiled. “It’s entirely possible that you made a spell that already suites you perfectly. In such a case, improvements of the spell are rare, and you wouldn’t experience much of a personal change.” He added, “Take, for example: A Water Mage using a [Fireball Aura] would probably run into issues with singed hair and burned skin, where the disconnect between their normal magic and fire magic would cause their natural aura to fray. But a true Fire Mage would have no issues with a [Fireball Aura].”

Erick thought about that. He would have thought everyone would have had trouble with a [Fireball Aura]. He had never tried to make one though. Maybe he should try?

If he ever decided to make a [Vivid Gloom Aura], he would probably end up with a lot more problems than damaged skin and singed hair. But that would be true for everyone when it came to creating an aura out of [Vivid Gloom], right? Or maybe… was this the reason that Poison Archmage was perfectly fine inside her own orange cloud?

Al smirked. “I can see you don’t believe me.”

“I’m just saying, this requires some testing.”

Al laughed.  

Erick smiled, to see the man laugh. This was a good idea. He should have done this a while ago. To be fair, there were a lot of problems out there, right now, but he was solving them as he could. At that thought, Erick said, “Ah. Yeah. I need to check on this thing. Shouldn’t take long.”

Al nodded.

A brief check on the Ophiel north of Kal’Duresh, revealed that the storm was still going, and that spiders were still dying, and burning up once they touched the fire-covered ground. Erick quickly renewed a few necessary spells, and then came back to himself. He had only been gone for five seconds.

Al said, “You know, that’s a rather impressive storm you made.”

“I’m learning all about weather patterns now so that I can cast the spell more effectively.” Erick felt a stab of pain, as he said, “I miss Krakina. I would have loved to ask her some questions. She’d know a lot about the weather around here.” He added, “Not too sure I should talk to Ikawa, though. That didn’t go so well, last time.”

Al looked away. He said, “We lost a lot that day.”

At that segue, Erick asked, “How is Savral? What’s going on with him?”

After a minute, Al turned to face Erick. “It’s not going as good as it could, but it will get better. He is missing memories, but I’ve talked to others who did the same thing as I… Some people are doing rather well. Others, not so much. The group I’m in— We think we’ve found a pattern to the problems. Those who lead violent lives of killing monsters are doing worse than those who stayed in the city and tried to live calm lives.” Al said, “The woman said to treat people like they had Dragon Essence poisoning, but we did that. We just didn’t think she meant that people had to completely change who they were. Some of the adventurers who came back, went out into the Crystal Forest to try and ‘find themselves’ again.” Al looked away. “Those ones have done the worst, and Savral is a part of that group.” He turned back. “I couldn’t stop him from testing himself against a mimic. He did fine, of course, but then he forgot about a stupid spice he liked to use all the time.”

Al bunched his fist, then relaxed it, slowly. Moments passed.

“I’m sorry, Al.”

“Thank you for saying such, but it is not your fault.” Al said, “This was my choice.”

The drinks arrived, along with salads and bread. Erick ordered something harder than the wine that was part of their meal. Al smiled again at some funny little joke Erick made, and it was good.  

When the first course was done, Erick asked, “So how do you lock down someone from using Spatial Magic? When I have to fight, I want to be able to keep the enemy from avoiding the fight.” He added, “I was thinking imbuing [Dispel] and [Teleport] into an aura attack, or something. Something that would stick around on the target for a while, or at least until the spell ran out. Maybe something with [Conjure Bind]? But I have yet to make that spell, either.”

Al shook his head. “[Conjure Bind] is decent. You might have to go that route. Aura attacks are only useful when someone doesn’t know what you’ve done. I can show you some of how that works later, but all you have to do to clear your aura is use [Cleanse]. If you truly want to deny someone their Spatial magic, you have to use parasites.” He added, “Monsters rarely have Spatial magic though— Oh. I see.” He said, “But shadelings don’t have Spatial magic, either, I think?”

“Shades do.”

Al sat a bit straighter. “Ah.” He thought for a minute. He said, “It could work. [Conjure Bind] would be useless against a Shade, for sure.” He said, “And you’ve reminded me: What you want to know is actually called Curse Magic. Almost all of that is locked behind the Witch Class.”

“… Oh?” Erick connected some dots in his mind, then said, “[Cleanse] is a gift from the gods. Curses are an aura affliction. So that’s how divine magic works to clear out curses? It purges the aura?” An anomaly reared its head. Erick looked to the ring on his finger. “Then why do my rings work, too?”

“The mysteries of magic are many.” Al smiled. “But if I had to guess, it would be because the aura is produced by the soul and magnified in different ways by the presence of the body and the mind. But we get access to the Script through our souls. And so, strengthening the soul and body with boosting rings that will not break, has a bolstering effect on the natural [Cleanse] that normally flows through the [Script] to keep it functional and whole.” Al said, “That’s pure conjecture on my part, though. You probably won’t hear that from anyone else, and I’m likely wrong. But that’s what I’m thinking is happening.”

Erick thought for a moment. “The Army has said that these rings don’t instantly clear out curses; it takes a short while, and it destroyed the rings, too.” He asked, “A loop of interaction that gradually erodes the magic inherent in a curse?”

“That’s another way to put it; sure.”

Erick asked, “How does the divine clean out curses?”

Al spoke strongly, “With divine might! Plowing through the curse! Brushing it aside with the power of a god!” Al relaxed, smirking. “I have no idea.”  

“Is the Curse of the Shadeling the same?”

“Ah.” Al thought. He said, “Probably not.” He added, “I don’t know much about curses except how to notice when one has invaded my aura. I can show you some aura control, later, if you wish. That should enable you do the same, but there’s no way to know for sure. I haven’t had to fight off a curse in decades and I don’t have any Curse Magic of my own.” He said, “Aura control is pretty esoteric. It’s not that useful except for shaping aura spells.” He paused. “But that would be pretty useful for you, wouldn’t it?”

Erick smiled. “Probably.”

Al jolted. He said, “Oh! I almost forgot. Curse Magic is highly illegal. You could probably get around those laws, though.” He waved a dismissive hand, saying, “Silverite probably won’t care if you learn some curses.”

Erick said, “She might even know someone I could talk to.”

Al nodded.

Their food arrived. It was delicious. They spoke of their last months, like they were friends getting together on the weekends as they always did, and not like two people who had barely spoken to each other in a long while. When the meal was over, after three courses and desert, Erick insisted on paying the bill. Al only relented when Erick said he was already paying for Kiri and Poi’s meals. The bill came out to 4500 gold. Erick was surprised at that, but it was a good dinner, with a good view, and even better company. In order to actually pay, though, he had an Ophiel blip in a 900 count pile of rads into a side room; Erick’s many, many Jewels had been working overtime to gather what they could from spider corpses.

After dinner, Poi briefly informed Erick that the spider horde was gone. He could stop the storm, now.  

So Erick stopped the storm, and then he reorganized his collection protocols. Ophiels and Jewels continued to work long into the night, but since there was no need to deal damage anymore and all the tiny spiders were burned away in the fires, Ophiel started using a different spell to help the many, many Jewels work faster.  

--

Cleansing Flame, instant, medium range, 15 MP

A smokeless flame gradually consumes and transforms a large amount of organic material to naught but air.

Deals no damage.

--

Piles of spider corpses caught on white fire, transforming into thick air that twisted away on the northern winds, leaving glittering rads strewn across the desert, like a strange reflection of the night sky above. Jewels picked those rads from the ground like they were plucking stars, gathering their harvest against their quartz-like bodies.

Erick, meanwhile, got an introduction to aura control in the third story classroom of his house.

An hour of discussion and attempts passed.

Al finally got too disgusted to continue. “But you use your aura all the time! How can you not see what I’m telling you?!”

Erick laughed. “Just like old times.”

Al frowned. “It’s barely midnight. I want a drink. You’re buying, mister rich man.”

“Sounds good to me.” Erick smiled.  

In minutes, Al and Erick, along with Teressa, Kiri, and Poi, were back on the town. It wasn’t long till they were drinking at a nice, open air amphitheater-slash-bar on the third story of building just beyond the Gardens, near the Human District. The place had a beautiful view of the northern sky, past the wall, and live entertainment. [Weather Ward]s stretched between stone pillars, keeping the wind out, but not the chill. There was no roof. Some people happily huddled together, while other, less amorous visitors, enjoyed private fires scattered here and there. Erick and Al had a fire. He also had a clear view of the night sky. Stars twinkled above like motes of light in the endless dark.

The band tonight was called Veruna and the Rumblers. Their lead woman was an incani of some beauty, with violet skin and violet horns. Her dress was a simple cotton thing that twisted in the breeze as she sang of the dearly departed and forever loved, of emotions and ceremony, while her band played along in a style that Erick would have called art rock, or maybe classical but with a stronger sound. Whatever it was, it was good.

Erick smiled, listening to the music, drinking his beer. He clapped between songs, like the rest of those present.

After two songs, he whispered to Al, “She’s pretty good. This was a good idea.”

Al smiled wide. He nodded.  

Some time later, something shifted in the crowd. Erick was not the first to notice the problem, at all, but he caught on quick enough when people started pointing to the north. The twinkling stars seemed to twinkle a bit more than they should. Some of the stars even vanished completely for long moments.  

Veruna stopped singing. The band stopped playing. Some people turned to look at Erick.  

Erick turned to his guards. Poi was already walking toward him.  

‘Sir,’ Poi sent, ‘Ballooning Spiders will descend on Spur in thirty minutes. It seems that the spiders have accounted for your [Weather Control]. Something more drastic must be done.’

‘Okay. I’m on it.’ And then he spoke loud enough for people to overhear, “I’ll take care of it.” He sent to Poi, ‘I won’t leave myself, much, but I will be slightly vulnerable.’

‘Understood.’

Ophiel, on Erick’s shoulder, was happy listening to the band. He would have rather floated above the singers and joined in the song, but Erick readily put a lid on that, controlling the tiny feathered [Familiar] to sit on his shoulder and behave. But now, with the music over, and danger approaching, playtime was over. It was time for work. Through his [Familiar]’s eyes, Erick saw Teressa loom behind him, facing backward, protecting his rear, while Poi stood to his right, ever vigilant. Kiri stayed near the bar; a set of eyes to watch from a different angle.   

Erick began summoning enough Ophiel to bring him back up to his cap, while remaining mostly high mana. One by one, they blipped away to first summon their Saturn-like configurations, before blipping again, into the sky.  

When the first Ophiel arrived in the skies north of Spur, spider threads caught on his shield, and spiders, meters wide, landed atop Ophiel’s dense air. They stabbed into the unknown, solid space, with long, oozing fangs, but Ophiel released his [Domain of the Withering Slime], and the assault ended as fast as it began. Spiders died, dried, and fell away, revealing the horde as far as Ophiel’s many eyes could see.

Erick changed the weather, casting wind into a twisting vortex, aiming for dust devils like before.  

But something failed. The storm did not twist how Erick wanted—

Ah. A source of heat on the ground. Right. This was ‘Winter’, and it was pretty darn cold out there this far past sunset. Erick first had his Ophiels blip around the battlefield, layering the ground every hundred meters with bright [Shimmer]s, casting heat into the night, while he layered [Call Lightning]s into the space above the spiders. In ten minutes, the field was primed.  

Erick gave the weather another push, while he gave each Ophiel the appropriate spells, and set them to task.

He came back to himself, sitting in a spell bound, silent audience, while the skies north of Spur began to churn with flickering clouds. Rain began to fall on long lasting balls of fire that populated the desert, while lightning flickered in towering clouds. The stationary fireballs provided little light, so it was hard to see—

Here and there, someone turned on the lights in the sky. Massive lightwards shone onto falling, hungry spiders, and onto the clouds that chased them. The clouds were dark with rain, but the spiders were bright white, with a horde larger than the clouds. Ten, twenty kilometers from east to west? Much more than that from north to south.  

Ophiel’s own Domains were not large enough to cut into the whole swarm, but they did cast large swaths of spiders down to the ground. But spiders controlled the wind, too, and they were a hive mind species. They parted the sky like only a thousand mages working in concert could, dodging the thick air swirling around each flying Ophiel.  

Erick felt his first spike of worry of the night, as spiders whipped around kilometer wide killzones, as sirens began to blare.

BrrrRRRRRRRRRRR!

The siren came and went in mere moments. Silverite spoke to the city.

“Attention Spur. Ballooning Spiders are falling. Our Archmages are fighting, but smaller spiders may get through. They are just as deadly as the adults. Take cover, or prepare to fight. I repeat: The smaller spiders are just as deadly as the adults.”

Erick felt his second spike of worry of the night.

A personal message came directly to Erick’s mind, ‘We could use a Domain across the city, and some imaging for the spiders somewhere. Your house is fine, or the Guardhouse.’

‘On it.’

Erick worked fast. He finagled with the storm, connecting heat and cold and tumbling currents into a stream of air that churned from east to west, like a wave crashing in the sky. At a nudge, the sideways wind shifted, one end up, the other down. The spiders fought back, turning the air back to calm, but they were spitting into the wind; they could not fight the whole sky. Clouds turned violent, turning into tumblers, catching threads and pulling in spiders like a spindle transformed wool into yarn. Erick, and his entire audience, watched, as a churning air touched down on one side of the battlefield, pulling sky to the ground, and the fires of the desert into the swarm.

The whole thing caught fire at once, as thin, flammable spider threads proved to be excellent fuel, disrupting the whole storm system. The conflagration was short lived, drowned out by falling rains, but the heat those massive moments supplied to the system lasted much longer. Fires twisted and clouds spun. Dried spiders caught fire. People gasped to watch the death happening right outside their city.  

Erick took one of the Ophiel and sent him blipping to the battlefield floor to pick up something—

A spider leg! Ophiel grabbed the meter-long, partially charred limb, then blipped directly to the courtyard of the Guardhouse. People were already there. Someone reacted to Ophiel’s appearance with a [Force Beam] that briefly swiped against the feathered [Familiar], but the caster cut the spell before much happened. Ophiel glared at the offender, but Erick brought his attention back to task. Soon, a ball of cascading light glowed high above the Guardhouse, while a map of Spur appeared in the courtyard, with blue dots marked for every single Ballooning Spider. Erick had not made a DNA scan, but he did use the spider limb to set his 20 kilometer radius map to better target exactly what he wanted to target. It was only that size, because the Guard needed to see what was happening inside the city, not what was happening outside.

Erick had his third scare of the night, when blue dots appeared on the map; they were already here.

Erick immediately had the Ophiel by the guardhouse blip to the center of the city; it was the only one free at the moment, all the rest were busy killing the swarm. As that Ophiel appeared in the center of Spur, Erick channeled his own Domain through him, casting his own magic so that he could hit the entire city with his aura, at once.

He came back to himself, still sitting in the silent music bar. Thick air lifted from all around him, as notifications poured through the sides of his visions, and a kilometer wide tornado ripped across the land far ahead. Spiders tried to fight the storm. They cast diverting winds into the tornado, trying to change their fate, but Erick had set the system up too well. They caught on the threads of their fellow spiders and tumbled down into waiting [Domains of the Withering Slime].

Ten minutes passed. The blue dots on Erick’s map were already vanishing, as the Guard sent people out to deal with the problems. It wouldn’t be long till the city was empty of all Ballooning Spiders.  

The ones to the north who chose to attack en masse, instead of on their own, never had a chance. None of them got through Erick’s storm.

Veruna, the singer, spoke up from the stage, tentatively asked Erick, “Are we good?”

Every eye in the music bar was already on him.

Erick said, “I think so. Looks like the Guard is clearing out those that made it to the city. I’ll let you know if we’re not.”

Veruna smirked, then she smiled, then she laughed. “Good!” She said, “Because this is the most adamantine backdrop I could ever ask for. Strike it, boys!”

Her bandmates happily obliged. The tornado continue to churn death in the background, while Veruna belted out a song of glorious battle and hard fought life. It was a good song.

Erick’s mind was occasionally in eleven places at once, to make sure that Spur remained safe from the spiders, but the battle was won as soon as the two kilometer wide tornado began to churn and tear down the swarm. Erick mainly kept the weather running with fires and control, as he sat next to Al, listening to the band, the occasional crack of sky-filling lightning, and the far away rumble of a tornado.  

The patrons at the bar loved it. They cheered louder, they drank more. Some people tried to buy Erick a drink, but he shook his head.

Before long, Silverite sat down next to him. She smiled, saying, "This is fun.”

Erick laughed. He had another beer, but he kept himself sober.