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Relaxed in his heavy black armor, Quilatalap stood in front of two dozen Shades, while an image of the Armory hung in the air behind him, looking like a land of black bubbles. He put a hand on some papers behind his podium, and began, “The Armory serves as the testing ground for petitioners to gain artifacts that will help them in their own particular parts of the world. The Clergy makes most of those artifacts, and shelters many more. Everyone here who wished to be informed when their items went out, has been, but now is the time for an unveiling of every item that has been won.

“To that end, we have this presentation.

“This is a display of strategic assets gone out into the world.

“It is a display of power by the Clergy, for the Clergy. This is a mixer for all involved, so that plots can be strung together after this presentation, if people so choose.

“So. Before we get into the meat of the matter: Anyone have any pressing desire to display their own artifacts and associated stories? There’s always at least one of you.”

Three hands went up in the audience.

“Alright then.” Quilatalap flicked his eyes across the gathered Shades, and said, “Forin Leofield, Shade of Enlightenment. Stardust, Shade of the Edge. Toymaker, Shade of Diversion.” He shuffled some papers around on the podium, pulling three slips of paper out of the whole and moving them to the front. Erick never saw the papers before he started shuffling them. Quilatalap said, “There we go. We’ll do you three, soon enough. But first, some numbers.” Behind Quilatalap, the viewing screen shifted. Names and numbers appeared and then moved off to the side, as he spoke, “This year, like many others, the majority of petitioners came from these various lands, of which I will only separate from their continent if their country of origin has more than 10 million people. City States will only be listed in the case of a winner.

“The Greensoil Republic. 28 losing teams, 5 choosing to go on past the first death, 26 permanent deaths. 5 winning teams. 7 survivors, 21 deaths. An abnormally large ratio of winners to losers this year, and quite a lot of post-adventure murder and infighting. We’re going to see a lot of that, this year.

“The Wasteland Kingdoms. 35 losing teams, 15 choosing to continue, 97 permanent dead. There was but a single winning team. That team of twelve had been in there for two months, and only finally passing their Artifact Trial after Shadow’s Feast had already begun. They won. You all know what they won, but we’ll go over that later. There were ten of them alive at the time of their win, but four of them killed the other six after they won. Those four will be on the stage later.

“Assorted lands of Glaquin. 71 losing teams, 6 choosing to continue. 38 permanent deaths. 4 winning teams, 20 survivors, 3 deaths. Orcol team, orcol team, assorted Crystal Forest team, assorted Sovereign Cities team.

“Assorted lands of Nelboor. 190 losing teams, 42 choosing to continue. 218 permanent deaths. Not a single winner from Nelboor this year. Quite odd. They usually get at least one artifact, and some war always erupts over there because of it. Not this year.

“Eidolon, of Nergal. 1 winner. Not a team. A singular winner. A human girl of 17. Very odd, but very capable person, there.”

Small laughs murmured from the crowd of Shades, along with one soft, ‘Really?’ There was a response of ‘Oh yeah, it was—’ but Quilatalap glared at the offender, and the offender went silent.

Quilatalap calmly said, “No spoilers,” then went on, “Nergal, both archipelago and continental, 37 losing teams and 19 losing teams, respectively. 4 and zero willing to continue. 7 permanent dead. Zero winners.”

“Quintlan.” Quilatalap smiled. “3 winning teams, 15 survivors. No losers. No deaths.”

“What!” more than one person exclaimed.

“Favoritism!” someone called out.

“Blatant favoritism!” added another.

Quilatalap smiled, then faked a frown. “I can’t help it if they raise them better over there.” He spoke over all resulting rejoinders, saying, “Moving right along.

“Assorted islands and underwaters, including Oceanside, Stone Reef, Deadtide, and all of those. 29 losing teams, 19 continuing. 109 permanent deaths. Zero winning teams.

“Stratagold, Underworld. Zero losing teams. 4 winning teams. 19 survivors. 1 permanent death.

“Assorted Underworld. 289 losing teams. 4 choosing to continue. 21 permanent deaths. No winners.

“And that’s it for the Artifact Challengers of the Armory. Total teams: 715 teams, for a total of 3,672 people.

“As for the lesser numbers: We have the Easy, Medium, and Hard courses of the Armory Challenge. These stand at roughly 28,000 people, 11,000 people, and 6,000 people, respectively. Winning rates hold steady at 70%, 38%, and 7%. But no one cares about those deeper numbers, so there will be no total breakdown. For those who care: the average prizes won were 50-Stat items, or some Stat Fruits, which turned out to be really popular once they were available. Once they were available, they were chosen 95% of the time, for a total of almost 8000 Stat Fruits given out, with Intelligence coming out far and away more chosen than any of the other options. Roughly 60% of choices went for Intelligence, followed by Constitution for 20%, Dexterity for 15%, and Charisma for 5%.”

Quilatalap turned to the board, which listed everything behind him, and waved a hand, brushing away the numbers for the losing teams, leaving only the winners. Those winner-numbers reorganized to take up the whole screen.

Erick felt a profound sense of oddness. He, himself, had just killed a man. And now, here he was, listening to death-numbers like this was a board meeting and not a horror show. He wiped away some wet thing on his face as he pretended nothing was wrong.

Queen leaned over, whispering, “Are you okay?”

Quilatalap whipped his head toward Erick, his deep black eyes searching for problems.

Erick pulled himself together and said, “I’m fine.”

Queen sat back in her chair, shrugging.

Quilatalap nodded, slowly, then went back to the board, continuing, “A total of 18 artifact winning teams this year. 2.5% win-rate. That’s rather low compared to the Artifact Trial win-rate in previous years. My observations conclude this is due to a number of interrelated factors, including the Converter Angel and the Breach Demon, as well as the introduction of Particle Magic to the world, and the general smartening of the various Ancients around the world, due to the decrease in the generalized discombobulation of Melemizargo. For instance, this year's Unicorn Hunt over in the Sovereign Cities was particularly brutal, with the Ancient Unicorn there doing a lot more than in previous years. All that doesn’t even touch upon the existence of the Ballooning Spider Horde, though the death rates for that event was considerably lower than previous balloonings. 

"Champion Yetta's incursion also drew a lot of people to Kendrithyst who should never have come here.

“All of these factors acted in concert to cause people to search for ways out of those messes, and for a lot of them, it meant coming to Kendrithyst well before they were ready.

“But one happening stood out from all the rest.

“Candlepoint’s existence was frightening for a lot of nations out there, but once it was proven that Candlepoint was exactly what it said it was, that lesser experience with the Clergy gave a lot of adventurers the courage to try their hand at Kendrithyst.”

Erick felt his skin go cold.

Quilatalap continued, “I say now, with eyes open and time passed, that I feel there was not enough distancing from Kendrithyst and Candlepoint. The people who came from Candlepoint to here were NOT prepared for the true trials of Kendrithyst, and the Armory numbers show it. But even outside of the Armory, more than once, a team either wandered into the Swamp, or into the North River, or got stuck to the walls, or any other of fool places to be, where they then died to overwhelming power or vicious chance. I know some of you even saved those people, only for them to run away and into more danger, and get themselves killed.”

Far behind Erick someone spoke up, “They got what they deserved!”

A few agreements echoed around the pavilion.

Quilatalap continued, undaunted, “Whatever the case, Candlepoint is no longer under Clergy control. People will go there and then come here, expecting to walk through these ruby-purple halls and pick up treasure just sitting on the ground. They won’t expect to be tried for their deficiencies, and found wanting.”

Bulgan, standing on the edge of the pavilion, called out, “Not our problem! Complain about Candlepoint to Erick, if anyone.”

Erick felt his sight narrow, as his heart thumped hard.

“Now is not a time for discussion. Now is a time for facts and neutral perspective.” Quilatalap said, “That said, we continue:

“Many of the people who came to the Armory were reaching beyond their means in order to either save themselves or to prepare for the oncoming strife, or just because they thought they could. The Wasteland is firmly in the first category. Nelboor, in particular, is very guilty of the second. Many of the people this year fell somewhere in the third category, which we had much too much of.

“We’ve seen this before in other years of grand upheavals, and we’ll see it again.”

Erick felt like he was going to be sick.

“And now, for the artifacts and the winners.” Quilatalap continued, “Let us start with a contribution from Forin Leofield, Shade of Enlightenment.” Quilatalap gestured to the viewing screen behind him. A black book appeared. It had thick, metal covers, with white opal-like gems running up the binding. Some people in the crowd instantly boo’d.

Fallopolis turned around and muttered at the man, “Honestly.”

Leofield, an otherwise unremarkable human-looking man, just smiled wider.

The Librarian, who was near the back, said, “I like those!”

“You always like those Books of Knowledge,” said another.

Quilatalap’s voice broke over the crowd, “A Book of Knowledge. A common artifact, but one readily taken by many, since everyone knows that they are safe artifacts to hold and use. Leofield submits a Book of Knowledge every time the original is won, and there’s usually one won every other year.

“He also has other artifacts for winning, but those remain ensconced in the Armory, waiting for the right person to come along.

“Made with solid adamantine covers and with pages of the thinnest paper, the mostly-indestructible Book of Knowledge copies every nearby book within its pages. When the Book is not in this black, true form, it mimics the form of any book it has copied, and then hides in bookshelves, looking like a completely normal tome.

“When a user cuts themselves on the pages, they bind the book to them. Thereafter, when the user channels mana into the book, the book reveals its true form.

“In its true form, every book it has ever copied is shown on the pages.

“The Book of Knowledge is a multi-functional artifact with search, organizational, and other functionalities.” With a slight profundity, Quilatalap added, “And additional functions unlock when the user has a Greater Elemental Body.”

The bored crowd sat a bit straighter.

Leofield smiled wide, cheering for himself as he said, “That’s right!”

Fallopolis turned to the man, narrowing her eyes. And then the rest of the crowd, except Erick, all seemed to understand that something special had happened.

The Librarian, shocked, asked, “Finally?”

“Damn straight!” Leofield said, “Finally got it! Ask me later if you want one, ha ha!”

Quilatalap spoke over the crowd, “In the presence of a user with a Greater Elemental Body, the Book of Knowledge gains sentience, and is able to tailor the user’s reading experience to all such books that would best benefit them. It will help create a Domain. It will begin to highlight the various misinformations perpetuated by the Arcanaeum Consortium. It will eventually gain a small ability to move on its own, in the form of a [Spectral Butler].

“This year, the Book of Advanced Knowledge went to an orcol team from Wyrmrest. The book has been in the hands of an accomplished mage for six months. He was the leader of their team, and though he began with [Greater Stone Body], he has since added [Greater Water Body] to his skills, while not only joining the Cult of Melemizargo, but also rising in ranks from Follower to Leader. His team has experienced similar benefits.”

There were a few professional claps around the gathering, and a few excited claps. Leofield repeated his offer of Books of Knowledge for anyone who wanted one. Erick heard no takers, but he didn’t doubt there would be a few. The Librarian, for sure, wanted one.

Erick felt a little sick, again.

Quilatalap continued his presentation, “And now we have Stardust, Shade of the Edge, and her Void Star.”

Stardust was a female snake shifter who sat one table over from Erick. She was pale and bald, but tiny white scales ran up the sides of her neck, dappling her face and her head, while also running out of the sleeves of her loose, black dress. As her name was called out she sat taller, and smiled.

Quilatalap offhandedly gestured at the screen behind him. A dark glass orb appeared, with what looked to be an eclipse in the center. Quilatalap said, “I have been asked to say that Void Stars are extremely easy to make. Stardust has had a breakthrough on an old project, and can make one of these a day, if she wanted. They are true artifacts, too. They do not break with ten thousand uses.”

Stardust smiled wider. There were a few small, professional claps.

Quilatalap continued, “When at least 850 mana is channeled into the Void Star, one [Void Star] is produced. If not directed to a target, the [Void Star] will attempt to kill the user. But otherwise, these energetic, ethereal summons, will rapidly move to any target within sight, slipping through most intervening barriers, in an attempt to reach that target’s center. Upon reaching its destination, the [Void Star] detonates in a [Void Blast], of medium size. Simple. Effective.

“And the entire team that won it is already dead from misuse and infighting.”

Stardust paled.

Then the giggles began. Fallopolis began chuckling, then cackling. It wasn’t long before a few Shades were howling with laughter.

“You told me those people won eight months ago! How am I just hearing about this now?” Stardust sat straighter, attempting to speak over the laughter, “Were they fools?! Or was this treachery?!”

Fallopolis ceased laughing, like the sudden stop at the end of a long fall. She glared her hateful white eyes at Stardust, and said, “They won. And then they died to what they won. That’s not right, Stardust.”

All laughter ceased, as eyes turned on the snake shifter woman.

Fallopolis continued, “Were they not aware of this fault? Or did you not tell Quilatalap?”

With a cocky sort of calm, Stardust said, “I told him. It was on the placard I wrote up. The winners knew what they were getting into.” She asked Quilatalap, “Didn’t they?”

“They knew. But they were a team from the Greensoil Republic, with ties to nobility. I suspect treachery of some sort, but I cannot confirm at all. And you would have known if you had asked.” Quilatalap said, “The artifact itself is still in play, and in the hands of a young noble of Greensoil, now.”

“A noble?!” Fallopolis instantly stated, “I vote for a Reclamation.”

Leofield said, “Deny.” He added, “They fucked up. It’s out there, now.”

Fallopolis eyed the man. Leofield just smiled. Stardust almost began to speak—

But Quilatalap shorted any more discussion, saying, “MOVING right along.” The screen behind him became an image of a spherical-ish die, with a short spike on every corner. It was silver, but otherwise unremarkable, save for the brighter parts of the metal that seemed abnormally shiny, and the shadows were deeper than they had any right to be. “We have Toymaker’s Breaking Die.” Quilatalap smiled. “For once, it’s not a murder machine. It’s an unusual little piece of fun.”

Through Ophiel’s eyes, Erick eyed Toymaker, who sat two tables back. He was a dark purple incani man with much of his horns, nails, and hair, an even darker purple, while his outfit was one of a comfortable black almost-sweater and almost-sweatpants. Erick knew of Toymaker, thanks to Killzone.

The Shade of Diversion was heavily active near the western wall of Ar’Kendrithyst, with much of his creations populating that side of the city. The Shade never showed himself, but his killer golems often resembled children’s toys, up until they released their inner swords or warhammers or such, and then you had a bunch of stuffed rabbits and frogs and puppet knights, all ready to kill. No teddy bears, though; Veird didn’t have that particular cultural phenomenon.

Toymaker smiled as Quilatalap kept speaking.

“This artifact would be easy to mass produce, too, as are most artifacts made by Toymaker.” Quilatalap said, “The Breaking Die is usable once per day, with a reset time of a day. When it is used, the Breaking Die is able to grant the user a single step along the Elemental Body skill that most compliments their nature.”

Some people in the crowd gasped.

Fallopolis turned around. “Really?!”

Toymaker grinned. “Really. I’ve let three of them go in the Sovereign Cities already. Pure havoc.” He added, “The good kind!”

Quilatalap spoke before the crowd could ask any questions, “When rolled, the Breaking Die grants a step along the Elemental Body most in tune with the user. It will only stop working for that person when they have a full Elemental Body of any sort. With any luck and personal balance at all, a person could end up with a full suite of nascent skills, though that part about stopping at a full Elemental Body is more conjecture than proven fact.”

Toymaker spoke up, “The problem is that gaining a Body makes the die always roll that way!”

Quilatalap nodded, then continued, “The larger benefit of this item, is, of course, that the gain of any Elemental Body Skill automatically unlocks the Script usage for the recipient, without the need for crafting any elemental essences into armor, first.

“A hidden benefit appears when not used for ten days, and then used by any young person who has not yet Matriculated. For such a user, the Breaking Die will grant a beginner skill in all six Elemental Bodies at once, and then fall into a stupor for 10 days; unusable.”

The crowd tried to speak to Toymaker. The proud man just kept his eyes on Quilatalap; joy radiating from him like a palpable force.

Quilatalap continued, “A further hidden benefit appears if not used for 1 month. If not used for 1 month, the Breaking Die gains temporary sentience and will attempt to escape all bonds in order to find a child for whom to grant its boon. Toymaker. As we agreed, you can say the rest. Small speech only, and make it fast.”

The audience turned to the man.

The Toymaker stood, regarded the crowd, and said, “The original Breaking Die went to the Sovereign Cities team. And then I found them, and gave them three more. In Melemizargo’s name, they have already started to build a rebellion to overthrow their controlling overlords. None of them are true believers, and they likely won’t get very far —they never do— but it’s been seven months and some of them are still alive, and fighting!” He smiled. “Over a hundred people have been freed from the tyranny of Rozeta’s Registrars, and more are freed every day.”

Professional and enthusiastic claps all around. Toymaker bowed a few times, giving thanks, while a few people requested him to make more.

And then Tania Webwalker stepped out onto the stage, across from Quilatalap. A fist-sized white spider sat perched on her shoulder. The crowd stopped. Toymaker turned, and regarded the Champion of Melemizargo.

Tania said, “A good artifact. Simple. Necessary. Well made. I want a thousand. Rip out whatever functionality you need to rip out to make a working artifact of base needs. Complete this task, and you will be awarded commensurately.”

Toymaker, still standing, looked suddenly mad. He started, “That’s impo—” He paused. He forced his anger away, and asked, “What do you consider base?”

“The options for elements beyond Shadow. Everything else is fine.”

Toymaker sighed, and with exasperation in his voice, said, “It only works because it is balanced, Tania. I have never gotten the shadow-only one to work. If I had, I would have debuted that version a hundred years ago, and the world would be a very different place.” He glanced toward Erick, saying, “This one only works because I stole his lights in that dungeon he made. That was the missing piece—”

Erick whipped around. “You WHAT!”

Toymaker pulled a frown at him, saying, “Ooh. Like you were the only one I stole from. Get over it.” He added, “If it makes you feel better, that light dungeon in Nelboor was trash compared to what you made.”

Fallopolis said, “I agree with Erick’s anger. Give him twenty of these Breaker Dice, and fulfill your obligation to him, first.”

Erick stared at Fallopolis, unable to come up with a counter to her suggestion, for there were too many places to start, and it would take way too long, and he’d lose anyway, and—

Quilatalap glared at everyone as he loudly tapped his papers on his podium.

Tania rolled her face toward the man, then turned back to Toymaker. “We’ll talk more later.” She snapped a finger toward the side of the pavilion, where a few butlers stood. “I want a table up front.” She turned toward the table where Erick sat, then pointed not two meters to his left, saying to the butlers, “There.”

There was an awkward reorganization. Tania and Bulgan sat down at a small table only two meters from Erick.

Soon enough, Quilatalap resumed.

He spoke of a diadem of [True Sight] that never broke, and which were able to eventually let the user gain the skill for themselves. Next came an [Onslaught] Shield, which let the user easily overcome a Juggernaut’s Unmovable with a simple [Shield Bash].

And then he spoke of artifacts based upon the laptop that had fallen to Veird with Jane.

The pavilion-full of Shades glanced Erick’s way, looking at his back, as he kept his own eyes firmly forward, but he did let Ophiel’s wander where they would. As Quilatalap spoke, and the Shades behind Erick congratulated themselves on their stolen ideas brought to fruition, Erick recalled his talks with Jane, about her hobbies when she was younger, and more recently, about all the items that had been on display in Candlepoint. As it turned out, according to what he was seeing right here, those one-off items or 50-charge wands or ‘belts of giant strength’ or ‘bags of holding’ offered at Candlepoint, were but the beginning. The versions of items won at the Armory’s Artifact Course were exactly that; artifacts that never fully broke, unlike all the other magical items created under the Script.

A weapon made of living fire, that grew with the user. A Bottled House, that came out with a command word and went back in with the same. A Robe of Tentacular Eyes, that was a conglomeration of Ophiel’s ability to see everywhere, an eldritch abomination, and that yellow eyebeam wyrm Erick killed both a lifetime ago, and not too long ago.

One of the bigger items was a Mini Box, that used an advanced form of [Adjust Size] in order to fit a meter of stuff down into a 4x4x4 centimeter metal box. The box itself was also imbued with a [Gravity Ward] that negated all of the weight of the stored items. Erick’s brief marvel that Jane’s ‘Bag of Holding’ had come true, was turned to annoyance, sadness, and disgust, all at once, after the boisterous creator spoke of breaking the Wayfarer Guild. This Shade had created a marvel! But all they wanted to do was destroy.

Then there was the Amulet of Non-Presence, that negated the ability for a person to regain Health or Mana, prevented them from using Health or Mana, but also erased their presence from the Manasphere. They wouldn’t trip [Alarm Ward]s. They could walk through [Prismatic Ward]s. Almost all non-physical magic would simply pass them by, as if they weren’t even there. And the creator Shade was happy that it had already been used to assassinate several high ranking politicians of some place called Stratagold in the Underworld.

Fallopolis must have noticed Erick’s confusion, for she whispered to him, “Stratagold is the largest Wrought City in or on Veird.”

Quilatalap said, “And now, for the final two winners. We’ll do the single winner from Eidolon, first.” Behind Quilatalap, the image of a young human woman appeared. She was walking along a skyroad holding a seafoam-green conjured sword that was easily three times her own height. It reminded Erick of Jane’s choice of sword; thin, brittle, useless if used wrong, but when used right, it was an object of pure cutting. The woman had sun-bleached hair, brown eyes, and bronzed skin, and was absolutely covered in the rotten gore of a killed umbral wyrm. Quilatalap said, “Hakina entered Kendrithyst 45 days ago by coming over the wall. She shot from level 34 to 75 in her first week by attacking the Deep Dark. A quick trip outside, and then back, had her returning as a Dragonslayer.”

The questioning gazes and interested faces of many Shades suddenly shifted to recognition. Some turned to admiration. A few Shades leaned back in their chairs, going, ‘Oh.’ A few others nodded, like it was obvious what Hakina was, and had become.

Quilatalap said, “Hakina completed three trips through the Armory. Her first two were on Hard. She selected a Constitution Fruit and an Intelligence Fruit. There was never a danger of her turning shadeling, for she was well trained in a few good soul-securing techniques that she had gained from her grandmother, who in turn, gained them from Messalina.” Quilatalap remained professional as he mentioned the Life Binder, but Erick recognized a break in the facade. What was that about? Quilatalap continued, “Hakina’s dream was to become an herb stalker, like the rest of her family, but when Messalina’s village was destroyed and the power structures she enabled were torn down, the whole of Continental Nergal went into a spiral. In Eidolon, Hakina’s family was killed by a dragon fight, that was apparently the result of trade routes shifting and two dragons coming into contact with one another.”

“Yup.” “Saw that coming.” “Of course.”

Quilatalap glanced through the audience, and his eyes landed on Queen.

Everyone seemed to know what that meant, as Queen herself gasped, and others clapped.

Queen asked, “Really?”

Quilatalap said, “Yes.”

“Finally!” Queen exclaimed, giggling as she smiled wide. “I’m so glad you didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t have been able to resist tracking her down.”

“That was what you asked for, and that is what I provided. Now, for the item.” The image behind Quilatalap shifted, to show an entire tiara made of what looked to be opal. “Queen’s Bright Crown was installed in the Armory nearly 60 years ago, and had yet to be won, until now. Very few winners had fit the item’s requirements in the last 60 years, but only Hakina had elected to actually pick the Bright Crown as her artifact.

“The Bright Crown is an artifact of automatic [Counterspell]s and [Suppression]. It allows the user to store up to half a million mana, set a target within long range, and then the crown takes care of the rest. It’s perfect for killing mage targets, of which dragons certainly qualify.

“Higher functions allow the user to, upon slaying a selected target, absorb all the essences from the currently appointed target, and to add them to your own Elemental Bodies. Dragon Essence is excluded from this functionality.

“The Bright Crown allows for the user to hold a [Polymorph] of the most recently slain target. It allows the user the ability to turn all of their mana displays invisible. And finally, the crown can be made invisible, intangible, and unknowable, whenever the user wishes.

“The Bright Crown is a narrow, but very powerful item, when in the hands of a gifted user. Hakina certainly qualifies.” Quilatalap said, “Hakina is currently on a dragon slaying rampage, working her way through Archipelago and Continental Nergal. As of two days ago, she has killed eleven known dragons.”

Goldie spoke up from the back, “Woop Woop! You go, girl!”

Now that Erick noticed Goldie, he also noticed the larger audience, with some Shades standing just outside of the main floor. He was distracted by the extra people for just a moment, as he turned his gaze upon the other dragonkin Shades. There were only seven dragonkin Shades, but they were all looking upon Hakina with something akin to joy on their faces. Ah. Right. Erick remembered now. Dragonkin didn’t particularly care for dragons, because dragons were cannibals when they could get away with it, and Erick didn’t doubt that the older dragonkin in the audience personally knew at least one kid who was eaten by a dragon.

That thought sent Erick spiraling down a few different tangents.

But the main one was: Had he just experienced sympathy for the Shades for their sympathy toward the people they had once known?

He had also just killed a man not an hour ago. Had it been an hour already?

There were too many problems with Shade society. Criminal organizations that used children for shields. People dropping to the ground and kowtowing toward Erick. Erick not receiving any flak for his, quite honestly, horrific abuses of power, what with the rampant searches and spying and violence he had done not too long ago. He might have only personally killed one guy, but if speaking was non-violent, and force was violence, pretty much everything he had done to end the threat against his family was pure violence.

Erick didn’t want to be that guy.

But he would have to be that guy, wouldn’t he? As Quilatalap spoke of the last artifact and gestured to the side, where four incani stood, Erick knew he would have to be rather violent toward the upcoming Converter Angel problem, too. He had gotten rid of the Breach Demon, after all, and in order to keep his neutrality in the Quiet War, and because he had already promised to help, he would need to take an active role in eradicating the Converter Angel. Erick felt the Silver Star on his chest briefly warm, and then cool, in time to his thoughts.

The four incani were four different colors. A red man, a magenta woman, a blue woman, a white woman. All of them wore adventuring leathers; rough clothes meant to protect from most easy threats, but easy enough to sleep in, while [Conjure Armor] went over them as needed. They didn’t look too scared to be in front of all these Shades, though. In fact, they looked rather… drugged out? Yes. That was it. The four of them walked as they needed to walk, glanced around as would anyone who needed to not step into something, and took their spaces on the platform like this was just another day at the office. No irregular heartbeat. No sweating. No concern for each other, either, save to not bump into one another. No concern for where they were. No recognition in their dull eyes.

Quilatalap introduced them. “From left to right, we have the surviving members of an unregistered adventuring team that was hastily composed of multiple factions. In their case, it was a union of noble adventurers, common adventurers, and merchant adventurers. There would have been ten of them up here, but when these four commoners heard what the others had planned, the party split. The commoners won.

“Technically, the party split after two weeks of being inside the Artifact Course, and though some people tried to bring them all back together, what the nobles and merchants wanted, the commoners could not abide. After the artifact was won, the commoners took action. And thus, the commoners survived.

“From left to right, we have Rexx, Idolizia, Caizoa, and Skorka. Assassin, Hunter, Juggernaut, and Cook.”

More than one Shade laughed, as more than one shouted out, “Cook?!”

Quilatalap let that interruption happen for a while, then he said, “Skorka here was the only reason they were able to last as long as they did. Her almost mythical-level of cooking Skills provided much needed buffs for the entire team. Skorka worked for one of the nobles they killed, and was instrumental in their solution to the dangers posed by those nobles, when she poisoned them all to death. She’s actually their highest level because of that. A level 88 Cook.”

More laughter.

Quilatalap did not laugh, though. Erick could tell this was just a job to him, that this was his end-of-year report. Sure, he tried to add in some mirth here and there, but he, himself, did not join in that mirth.

Quilatalap gestured to the screen behind him, and the four incani, saying, “And now, the item they won. You all know what it was, but let me refresh everyone’s memories.”

The screen shifted.

A four-pointed hunk of blackened metal appeared. It was a broach, and Erick instinctively knew this artifact for what it was. His own pristine Silver Star pulsed cold on his chest, almost in confirmation. This was a Black Star, like the one Silverite had shown Erick, months ago. But this one was something deeper; something inscribed in the manasphere itself. Erick felt a tug on his heart as he gazed upon a piece of Peace, taken into the fires of war, and desecrated by the realities of life and death and ultimatums.

Quilatalap said, “The Black Star. This item is an ancient artifact created by a Paradox Wizard of the Old Cosmology, hundreds of thousands of years ago, when Koyabez was born out of the remnants of a God War and was just starting to gain power. At the time, Koyabez was a minor deity, and could not prevent this warping of himself.

“Because make no mistake, the Black Star is an item of violence. Of death. Of ending threats. Since then, there have often been arguments between the Black and the Silver houses of Koyabez, but they both survive to this day, for Koyabez has accepted this darker part of himself, along with this Black Star.

“The usual argument goes like this: In order to understand the Black House of Koyabez, you must understand that peace is only true when all sides play along, in true discourse, and true goals. Harmony and peace thrive when the problems are ones of operational concerns, and not ones of one side just waiting for the day that the other side lowers their guard, so that they can murder them all.

“When systems break down. When tyrants rise. These are the occasions where ending a threat is a more peaceful action in the long run, for in playing along with those who seek to undermine and destroy, for in allowing true harmony to falter and fall and to let the harmful dictators rise to the top, all you get is dystopia. All you get are people happily living in the dirt and muck, licking the shoes of those in power, never knowing what could have been.”

A Shade in the back called out, “Too bad you can’t use it against the Script!”

Another added, “I’d like to not live in the dirt, if you ask me,” to which a good dozen other Shades openly agreed, and another ten nodded along.

“What are their plans for the Converter Angel!” demanded a third.

Quilatalap looked at the offender, and said, “I am getting to that.”

Erick, meanwhile, experienced yet another moment of surrealism. His shoulders shook. He sat straight. His hands started to shake, in restrained anger, for how could these people not see that they were the ones in power? That they were the ones that needed to die? That—

Fallopolis loudly said, “They’ll never get it, Erick. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Small conversations ended, when Fallopolis spoke.

Erick countered, “Some of them have to understand. It’s just...” The gathering was silent. The Shades watched him, while Quilatalap gave every indication of just standing back, and letting happen whatever was going to happen; he wasn’t about to get involved in this, but he made no move to prevent what was about to happen. Erick turned, and faced the crowd. He shot to his feet, declaring, “You all have all the power in this world! You are the rulers, according to all your actions, and from what I’ve heard already! If you don’t like your lot in life, then it’s your own damn fault. If you don’t—”

A male Shade stood up from their table. Incani, white skin, motley suit of various blacks. Erick recognized him as Goro, the Shade of the Arena. Killzone had warned Erick about this one, but Erick had been aware of this guy well before Killzone spoke of him. Erick recalled what he knew.

Back when Jane was helping Yetta through her trial to kill Planter, Jane had escaped from the final fight with an antirhine golem. She raced away from that confrontation with several people in her shadows, but a Shade named Porter had tormented her, causing her to drop the survivors. The victims of that arena died. But in a stroke of luck, based on time and place, Jane had reversed the dynamic between her and Porter, and gone on to kill that Shade.

But Porter was tight friends with Goro. Porter had often blipped offending adventuring teams into Goro’s arena, and now that Porter was gone, Goro’s Arena was falling out of favor with the other Shades, for the nightly shows with captured, harried adventurers were much harder to have without those easily captured victims.

At least the victims of the Armory chose to go in there.

Goro said, “You speak like someone who has only ever known the mud and muck. You truly have no idea what the gods and the Script keeps from us. Of what they’ve conned the people of this world into believing.” He said, “You are living in dirt, and you don’t even know it! Shut your mouth and learn from your betters.”

He got a few nods from the crowd, but most eyes were on Erick.

“Are you immortal?” Erick asked, knowing the answer already. “You’re not. All you’ve ever experienced was life on Veird. The only difference between you and I is one of perspective. You see trash all around you. I see opportunities to clean up, and build higher, and plant gardens, and make friends. You’ve been raised on stories of power, and then you have the gall to whine about not having enough. I’ve been raised on stories of perseverance, and—”

Tania stood. She said, “Heavy points, all around, but we can have debates another day. I will cut this short. Goro is correct. This world was built to cage magic and Melemizargo; that was the goal of the Script Builders, and they succeeded, robbing us of untold futures among the other worlds out there, and with our God. Erick is also correct. Every single person in existence can always do better. They can do more. They can achieve efficiency. They can achieve perspective and wisdom. Both of you are powerful. Both are going places. But only one of you is using your power to light the way forward. The other is apparently a Void.”

Goro’s bright eyes went wide. He glanced to the side, looking to flee, only to see Bulgan standing right there, a full head taller than the Arena master. Almost all the Shades in the audience were staring at Goro, as the man looked left and right.

Looks of glee erupted from the gathered Shades, as they turned to Goro, and smiled, their mouths full of fangs. None of them held this look quite as well as Fallopolis.

Goro’s shoulders slumped. “Fuck you, Tania.”

Tania proclaimed, “If any of you are unhappy with your existence! If any of you think that the trials are too tough! That the reward is not good enough! Then perhaps you shouldn’t exist anymore.” She snapped her fingers at Goro.

Goro became gore.

Fallopolis clapped loudly, as blood and mess pitter-pattered from the sky, like red rain.

Queen asked, “Erick? A [Cleanse] please?”

Tania turned to Queen. “You have servants for that.”

Some red thing flopped from the front of Erick’s now-red robes and landed on the ground with a slap.

Like he was suddenly in a dream and nothing felt real, Erick turned on his [Cleansing Aura]. He had several of his Ophiel, all around the gathering, do the same. Almost on autopilot, Erick turned back to his seat, and brushed away a bone fragment from his chair. That fragment vanished into thick air before it touched the ground. As he sat down his red outfit returned to pristine white. He spoke an apology to Quilatalap, but his words were lost in the absolute torrent of thick air that spilled out from the gathering, like a tornado.

The entire congregation of Shades experienced his [Cleansing Aura], and just like what had happened with Fallopolis that first time, each Shade became the headwaters of a tsunami of thick air.

An Ophiel Erick had sitting half a kilometer out, also caught the sight of that torrent. From that perspective, the occurrence made Erick think of a massive explosion, but without the fire. Windows shook in the passing of that thick air. A few windows broke. Nearby potted plants fell over, and then rolled away. Thick air usually had no physical form or feeling, but in these quantities, it did.

When the minor storm finally finished, Erick said to Quilatalap, “Apologies for the interruption.” He muttered, “What even is that thick air, anyway?”

Quilatalap said, “The thick air of [Cleanse] is a complicated topic, best left for another time. Now. Could we continue?”

Tania was already sitting. She magnanimously said, “Of course. Continue.”

Quilatalap nodded, then gestured back toward the screen behind them, where the Black Star was displayed. He said, “The Black Star was the last resort of the Peacekeepers. It has always been locked up behind heavy wards, and heavy restrictions, when not in use. Some of those restrictions are self-imposed; this is a semi-sentient divine artifact, after all.” He gestured to the four incani still standing on stage with him, saying, “Rexx, Idolizia, Caizoa, and Skorka, passed these restrictions, and gained the trust of the Black Star. Thus they have won the right to use the Black Star against the Converter Angel sent by unknowns of the Greensoil Republic.

“The Black Star requires a goal and a certain level of conviction in order to activate. Once those measures are met, the Black Star does many, many things for the wearer.

“As for the lesser functions, the Black Star automatically [Greater Teleport]s the user out of traps. It provides nourishment and a healthy body. It protects against disease, parasites, and all sorts of environmental harm. It provides immunity from all forms of mind, soul, or body control.

“Its larger function is to provide complete and total protection to the user, when the user is in pursuit of their goal.

“As the Black Star is very much a divine artifact of the Founding God of Veird, there are only two other greater gods on Veird that are capable of overcoming this protection: Rozeta and Melemizargo.”

There were some minor ‘booo’s from the crowd at the mention of Koyabez and Rozeta, while Melemizargo got several small prayers; it all inexplicably seemed like a game to Erick.

“The greater function is thus: When the user declares a goal in line with the goals of the Black Star, the Black Star will point the way to those who would harm all. There is no way to obscure this function, and it works through all known systems of obfuscation. Back in the Old Cosmology, this function worked five worlds away from any world touched by Koyabez, and would have only been slightly off in its guidance past that. Here, on Veird, this function is absolute.

“If the user is able to somehow, miraculously solve the problem that necessitated the use of the Black Star, without killing, then the Black Star does nothing. In such a case, the Black Star will usually choose to stay with the user. But in the usual event that the user intentionally causes a death, then depending on what the Black Star saw, it might stay with the user, or it might slay the user, and then [Greater Teleport] back to a Black Priest of Koyabez.

“All in all, it is an item of absolute self-protection, and a guiding star toward a chosen goal.” Quilatalap gestured to the captives, saying, “And now that you know the item, let’s hear their plans for this ancient artifact, from the winners themselves.”

The four incani on stage began to stir from their addled state. They blinked. They rolled their shoulders. Some sort of magic settled upon them, or rather, peeled back from their upper halves. Though they moved their legs, their booted feet came right back down on the stage, and their lower halves seemed to de-animate, just as much as their upper halves began to move.

One gasped, and then the other, as they looked out at the sea of white eyes staring back at them. The Cook schooled her face, while the others panicked, and then calmed. No one said a word.

And then the Cook looked to Erick. Skorka’s red eyes went wide, and then narrowed. “Fuck. He turned Shade.”

From two meters away, Bulgan laughed a single, “Ha!”

“Fuckin’ knew it!” exclaimed Rexx, the only man in the adventuring group.

Erick sighed, muttering, “Not a Shade.”

Fallopolis smirked as she suggested, “You should look into some cosmetic magic, or just take the plunge and actually join us.”

And then there was quite a lot of bickering on stage, though none of the adventurers were able to do more than that. Erick, and the Shades, watched on, some smiling at the hatred on display, some looking a little bored.

And then Skorka brought their yelling back to Erick. “What the FUCK are you doing here with them?”

Erick asked, “What’s your plan for killing the Converter Angel? I’m already obligated to help with that, so maybe that means I’m obligated to help you.”

Skorka shut up, her mouth closing with an audible click of her teeth. The other three looked to her for guidance. No one said another word.

A Shade spoke up, “So what’s their plan? I want to hear it so I can watch it all happen!”

Another added, “They don’t seem that fractured to me.”

Quilatalap said, “They killed their opposition, so, yes, they’re not that fractured anymore.”

A bored Shade said, “I expected more than this. Why’d they go silent?”

“Operational security,” Quilatalap said. “They never spoke in full and complete terms in their journey through the Artifact Course.”

“I want to know why their trial took two months,” Tania casually demanded.

“Can we all just move on?” Fallopolis said. “They were obviously taking their time in there. It’s boring, but it does happen.”

“Yes we can!” Quilatalap readily took the offered out by waving his hand at the four adventurers, returning them to their zombie-like selves. He banished the floating image behind him, then picked up his papers, and said, “That concludes this year’s Armory presentation. See you all next year—”

“No.” Tania said, “These people are connected to Erick. I need answers. What are you going to do with those four?”

“Storage, till after the Feast is over. Then I’ll loose them outside of Kendrithyst.”

“Nonsense. It does them credit that they kept their heads despite facing three dozen of the Clergy. Not a lot of credit, but some. I want them at the party, after the Second Telling, tomorrow.” Tania said, “I want to see how they deal with Erick in a less confrontational setting. Also. Have you given them the Black Star yet?”

“No.” Quilatalap said, “As laid down by the precepts of the Black Order, the plan was to temporarily block their memories of everything beyond the Converter Angel, give the Star to them, and release them out into the Crystal Forest, all at the same time. After the Feast.”

Tania gave a sly smile. “We’ll talk.”

Quilatalap frowned at Tania. Then he put on a neutral face, and turned to everyone else, declaring, “The Armory Presentation is over. Thanks for coming. Queen has opted to provide refreshments—”

Queen gestured to butlers waiting off to the side. They began moving. A door opened, and carts with covered trays began rolling out toward the Shades.

“—so you may now begin further plans for artifacts like the Breaking Die, the Void Star, the Mini Box, and others.”

Erick got the fuck out of there.

- - - -

Erick needed to clear his head.

So, for whatever reason, he decided to visit a few more Presentations, while almost all the Shades were busy being elsewhere. Such were the circumstances in which he found himself walking along the roads of the Palace District, toward whatever that place up ahead was, where a plume of rainbow smoke billowed out from atop a long post.

He wasn’t alone.

“Not that I’m saying your presence isn’t welcome. But why?”

Fallopolis said, “I’m waiting to see who you kill next. That business with Goro was pure art, that was.”

Erick reflexively gasped, but he kept his reaction tiny, as soon as he realized it was happening. He said, “I didn’t kill him.” Erick attempted to quip, “Not a single point of Participation.”

“And that’s what made it so artful!” Fallopolis happily added, “Goro makes two Shades killed today.”

“… Two?” Erick asked, “Who was the other one?”

“You don’t know him, but he was a dragonkin Shade who helped the Halls of the Dead gain the materials to make a Breach Demon, all those months ago.”

Erick paused. He tried to think of any possible person, in any of Killzone’s words, who fell in line with what Fallopolis had just said. He came up blank. “I really should have heard of that one before now.” Especially since he was the one who killed the Breach Demon. He asked, “Who was it?”

“Guy by the name of Anopix. He always keeps to the deep shadows. He barely showed up this year. And then Tania killed him.” Fallopolis said, “He was a less-successful version of Torika, the Shade of Ashes. The one who Tania Judged the other day who went around infiltrating and killing higher-ups? You remember. I think Tania is following a plan, and culling the slippery or quiet ones, first. Anopix barely had a presence inside Kendrithyst, so he certainly qualified.”

“Well then I’m glad he’s dead.” Erick added, “Couldn’t have happened to a better guy.”

Fallopolis nodded, agreeing. Then she said, “Tania is done, though.”

Erick frowned a little. “What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s going to start, soon. Cracks are showing.” Fallopolis said, “Look around you, Erick. Does this look like a place on the verge of a party?”

Erick had been looking around all this time. He saw normal people rushing to follow white lines carved into the road, hurrying to get to presentations, to submit themselves to individual Shades for consideration. He saw presentation spaces almost empty, or manned by a single non-Shade. What he didn’t see was the cavorting and extravagance and lounging and casual violence that he had expected, coming in to this Feast. “Well. Maybe.” He said, “I did expect orgies out in the open.”

Fallopolis exclaimed, “Yes! No orgies this year! You see it. This is wrong. And people are catching on.” She asked, “What’s your plan when the towers start falling?”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know, Fallopolis.”

With a slight scowl, she said. “How very politic.” And then she looked ahead. “Oh? Are we going to taunt Hollowsaur, next?”

Erick’s destination was just ahead; a large plot of grasslands on the western slope of the Palace, where large cages sat in the sun, and animals prowled under the watchful eye of their Beastmaster, Hollowsaur.

Erick said, “I heard he makes level 90 beasts, and I wanted to see one.”

Fallopoilis eyed him. “Why, though?”

He shrugged. “For a number of reasons.”

Fallopolis hmm’d, as the two of them finally moved close enough to see, in person, what was going on with the ‘animals’. Beyond a small fence that would have done nothing to prevent any sort of escape if any of the monsters inside wanted to escape, lounged four beasts, sunning themselves in the aurora light from above. Several small green people sat around with them, tending to their needs like the monsters were rich ladies at a spa. It was a relaxing sort of atmosphere.

Except for the monstrous monsters, of course.

One beast was a fox. It was three meters tall, and void-black, even its eyes, save for the tiny white tufts on the tips of its ears, and on the tips of its three tails. It sat in the sun, enjoying itself as a small green person brushed out its coat with a long rake. It yawned, showing off a red maw full of needle teeth.

Another monster was actually a collection of normal-sized monsters: owls made of lightning and fire. Four of them sat upon a scorched tree stand, while a small green man took turns flipping up fishes to them.

Ophiel instantly took an interest in the birds, and they took an interest in Ophiel, but Erick kept his own [Familiar]s back, as the lightning birds flapped a little and hooted at him from twenty meters away. A suddenly concerned owl-feeder looked over to Erick, his eyes going wide as he shook his head, muttering ‘no-no-no-no’. Erick just nodded, and stayed away from the lightning birds as he moved Ophiel out of direct line of sight. The owls calmed down, and Erick stayed on the edge of the field.

The last monster was an eyebeast made of golden eyes, held together by optic nerves and magic. Four meters tall, it almost looked like some sort of bull. The shape was there; four equal-length legs made of eyes, a thick body made of eyes, and a head with horns, which were, of course, made of eyes.

Killzone had told Erick about this one. It had been made from adventurers who had been turned into ‘eye-cattle’, who were then harvested for eyes, while being healed to ensure that the eyes kept coming. It was horrific stuff.

Doing some very rough math, and estimating the weight of an eye and the optic nerve weighing 10 grams, and comparing the bull in front of him to those Erick knew of, as weighing 1500 kg…

“A hundred and fifty thousand eyes?” Erick guessed. “Sounds about right.”

The gold-eyed bull plodded around on the grass. It leaned down to open its maw and eat some grass. Oh. So it had teeth, too. Maybe it wasn’t fully made of eyes? How quaint.

The abomination turned toward Erick. It huffed, then went back to its small green caretaker.

Erick turned to leave.

Hollowsaur stood on the road. He narrowed his eyes at Erick, and asked, “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see the pretty monsters.”

“Cow shit.”

“Maybe.” Erick said, “I’ve actually been thinking a bit, too. Maybe that’s why I came over here.”

Hollowsaur deadpanned, “What.”

“You offer incentives for people to invade you, asking them to harm your people and your pets, and then you kill them when they aren’t fast or strong enough because you enjoy this. But you’re obviously skilled enough to make horrors without using people.” Erick gestured toward the monsters, asking, “So why do you do this? Do you hate the world? Do you simply wish to cause lasting harm? I don’t think you actually do wish to cause true harm, for these people here seem to like you. Or have you soul scoured them into loving you like fanatics?”

One of the green men rushed the fence at the edge of the garden, shouting, “You leave him alone! He’s a good guy!”

Hollowsaur glared at the smaller man. No audible words were exchanged, but the man went back to work, tending to the eye-bull.

“I don’t control my people like that, Erick.” Hollowsaur turned toward Erick. “I turned those invaders back into people. They’re still partially cows. That’s never going to change. So congratulations on inventing a new form of sapient life. They’re your responsibility now.”

“Ah.” Erick nodded. “The minotaurs. Glad to hear they’re okay. I’ll have to go check on them later.”

Hollowsaur scrunched his face. “The what?”

“You stole Jane’s laptop. Those words are in there.” Erick said, “Anyway. I hope they won’t have long lasting health, social, or soul problems because of what you did.”

“They’re more stable than incani souls.” Hollowsaur sneered. “But when the world tries to kill them, that’s on you.”

Erick smiled. “I’m sure you’ve done well. Hopefully, you never have to do such awful things ever again.”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Hollowsaur said, “You sound like Priestess and you’re pissing me off, and my birds, too.”

Erick saw as the lightning-fire owls flapped and puffed in his direction, and as the fox on the other side of the field regarded him. Erick said, “Very well, Hollowsaur. See you tomorrow at the Second Telling.”

- - - -

Three streets closer to Quilatalap’s apartment, Fallopolis asked, “What was the point of that?”

“I’m not sure.”

Fallopolis smirked. “Okay?” She added, “Also, you named those cow people something special, didn’t you?”

“You guys didn’t already have myths about cow people?” Erick said, “There’re shifters everywhere. Are some of them not cow shifters?”

“Nope!” Fallopolis said, “Wolf, owl, and snake. Three kinds. And I’d hardly consider one out of every thousand random people to be ‘everywhere’. Shifters are rather rare.” She said, “So tell me: how prominent is this word you just used to describe these cow-people? Was it anything close to ‘Reincarnation’?”

Erick scrunched his face. “Not at all. But that brings up something I’ve been wanting to ask. Magic and language; how connected are they?”

“Deeper than the deepest Darkness. It could be said that without language, there could be no magic.” Fallopolis said, “It’s widely believed that the Ancient Script of the Script is a bastardization of Holy Thought, brought down to Veird, and wrapped in chains of soul and wrought. What we tap into when we attempt to enchant, is both what others have carved out of the Script, and a real bastardization of actual magic. True Magic and True Enchanted Items never fade; like dreams written down so that you can know of them beyond the few moments past waking. But everything fades away under the Script.”

“And that’s another thing!” Erick asked, “How are you guys able to make artifacts so easily? That Mini Box is something my Jane has been after since we fell to Veird. A portable storage unit. It wasn’t till recently that I began to think of doing the same thing but with [Gate] magic.” He added, “You know… Eventually.”

Fallopolis shook her head. “Artifacts are not easy to make. The Script gradually… I should start at the beginning. Whatever enchanting ideas you’ve been fed are likely wrong.”

“Let’s get back to the house, and we can talk.” Erick said, “I want to make lunch, anyway.”

Fallopolis smiled. “I will take you up on that offer!”

- - - -

Erick knew what awaited him inside the house, before he opened the front door.

Quilatalap was already there, already in the kitchen and making lunch, while the four adventurers sat at the table, looking much like lemons were on the menu; a little bit pissed, sad, and angry, at the same time. Rather silent, too.

And then Erick opened the door and walked inside. The adventurers instantly locked eyes with him.

Quilatalap just said, “Hey, Erick,” as he busied himself in the kitchen kneading some pasta, or making bread; Erick wasn’t sure. He had already put together some sort of cheese sauce that was currently simmering on the stove.

Erick said, “Hello, Quilatalap.” He stepped in further, saying, “Hello,” to the four people he would need to help survive the Converter Angel. Or something. He still wasn’t quite sure how that was going to work out.

Fallopolis grinned wide, silently watching, as she filed in behind Erick and waited for something more to happen. She was enjoying this, for sure.

Erick said, “I was going to make lunch, if you wanted. I can make it for all of us.”

Quilatalap just smiled a little, then said, “I got it. I’m making cheese pasta. Instead of that, why don’t you talk to these guys, first? Tania seemed serious about having them at the Second Telling, so I thought it best to get that problem out of the way, now. They’ve been talking about you amongst themselves for two months now.”

Fallopolis said, “Oh! Spoilsport! Just look at them.” She said, “I’m not one for Tania’s plots, but it would have been so much fun to see them at the Second Telling, without a private introduction. More Shades could have died.”

Erick grumbled, as he stared at Fallopolis, hoping that she could leave for a while.

Fallopolis smiled wider, and said, “I’m not leaving. This is pure drama! The fate of nations! The plight of planets! Or at least the plight of poor people in those places.” She teased, “Watch out now! Skorka might try to kill you by switching out the salt shaker!”

“I will not,” Skorka said, as her red eyes locked on Erick’s, telling a different story.

Fallopolis stepped, her feet flashing shadows, and suddenly she was sitting on the couch, across the room. Every single adventurer casually turned toward her. There was a moment of heaviness at the Shade’s open use of potentially hostile magics. And then it was gone.

Fallopolis told the adventurers, “Good reaction! No immediate violence. Nice dilatation of those eyes. But you: Blue.” Fallopolis eyed the blue woman, saying, “You turned on some physical skill. That could be taken as a sign of desire to fight. Around Shades, your only real shields are either propriety, or vulnerability.”

Erick eyed the adventurers, and went over their names in his head. The red man, Rexx, was an Assassin. The magenta woman, Idolizia, was a Hunter. The blue woman, Caizoa, was a Juggernaut. The white woman, Skorka, was their Cook. Skorka was responsible for enacting the plan that poisoned and killed off the rest of their remaining party…

And there were too many new names today. This was not mentally exhausting, but it was emotionally exhausting. Erick had just upended a local crime syndicate not two hours ago, after all.

Caizoa, the Juggernaut, said, “A defensive skill, to prevent the likes of you from running over us like a raging wyrm.”

“Oh! Baby, darling, honey, sweetcake.” Fallopolis lightly said, “Don’t challenge a Shade to prove they’re better than you. You wouldn’t like the obvious outcome.” She offhandedly complained to whoever would listen, saying, “Children these days! Did you not even read the codes of conduct for entering Kendrithyst? Such shame.”

Skorka put a hand to Caizoa, preventing the woman from rising from her chair, as Skorka said, “Our Caizoa is the idiot of the group. Pay her no mind.”

Caizoa glared at Skorka, but there was more embarrassment in her look than any real heat.

“I was already doing so, dear, but here’s some advice for you: don’t tell a Shade what to do. They’ll go out of their way to fuck you over.” Fallopolis magnanimously said, “You four are going to experience a lot more shit till you get out of here with your Black Star. Best be better than who you are!”

“Your advice is acceptable.” Skorka asked, “When can we leave?”

Quilatalap said, “As soon as the barrier is down. 7 more days.”

Professionally, Skorka said, “We will not last that long if we are to be paraded out in front of the… The Clergy, time and again. I ask that we be allowed to leave Brightwater, and to take refuge in the open city beyond.”

Fallopolis tilted her head. “No. You’d die out there, for sure.”

Skorka barely kept the glare out of her eyes, as she asked, “Why?”

Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Fallopolis said, “Because I’d kill you myself, take that Black Star, and shove it at Erick.”

While the four adventurers glared from the Shade to Erick, Erick just sighed, Quilatalap paused his kneading for a moment, before continuing, and Fallopolis looked like a cat who got the cream.

Erick said at Fallopolis, “Why.”

With exuberance, Fallopolis said, “To start this show off right! Tania is already planning on—”

“Are you really doing this, Fallopolis?” Quilatalap asked.

“Yes, we are doing this! It’s already happening, my fine dead friend! Tania killed two Shades this morning!” Fallopolis continued talking at Quilatalap, undaunted, “All the smart ones know what is happening, and all the dumb dumbs are decidedly dead.” Fallopolis gave a wild smile, as she continued, “And these four can either fall in line, or fall apart. Besides! All they wanted was for the Converter Angel to die, right? Give Erick the Black Star, and that problem solves itself!”

“I’m not going on a killing spree, Fallopolis.” Erick said, as he sat down on an empty couch, facing the rest of them.

“You really could, though.” Fallopolis kindly said, “And I’d help.”

Skorka said, “We don’t want to get involved—”

“Shush.” Fallopolis shot them a look. “The adults are talking.”

Skorka continued anyway, “And we refuse to allow the Black Star to fall into the hands of an archmage, anyway. It’s ours, by right of trial, and we will see that Angel evicted from this world before it can do any more damage.”

“Oh?” Fallopolis, partially mad, went suddenly intrigued. She asked, “It’s not the human-thing that concerns you? It’s the unkillable archmage? That’s interesting… I wonder why.” Casually, and in a way that no one thought was actually casual, she asked, “Have you been talking to Tania already? Or was it Bulgan?”

While their Juggernaut paled to a brighter shade of blue, the other three tried not to give away the game at all. They failed. They were very good at it, though. Erick could barely tell that Skorka knew the most of all of them. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew; but he did.

Erick looked directly at Skorka. She looked at him. Erick asked, “Did one of them want you to kill me?” Erick instantly zeroed in on the assassin; Rexx. “Why?”

No one spoke. Rex activated some sort of Skill; his breathing evened out as he calmed, completely, and began to sit there, same as before, but now with a mask to his features, and an average beat to his heart.

Without turning from the adventurers, Fallopolis offered, “Tania wants Erick dead now?”

Confusion, all around, except for Rexx. His entire body was still a mask.

After a moment, Erick said, “No... That’s not it. Maybe Tania or Bulgan weren’t involved, yet?” Erick realized, saying, “It was another Shade. But who?”

“… Perhaps.” Fallopolis said, “Likely, in any case. So who was it? Are you four kids connected to one of us? Oh. That got a reaction.” It had. Caizoa, the blue Juggernaut, gave away that secret. Fallopolis waited a beat, and when no one spoke, she said, “I’m going to throw out some names. Here goes: Silverite—”

Not one of the adventurers had any emotions.

Erick openly balked. “What?”

Fallopolis glanced at Erick, saying, “It’s a long list! I can probably do this without you, but you might want to know going forward. So hush, and let me do my Quick Interrogation!” She pointed at Rexx. “And you. Stop that. It’s a crutch. That [Stilled Body] does you more harm than good, because not only does it prevent you from developing real skill, if you don’t stop, there’s going to be some physical harm done to you, right now.”

Quilatalap said, “Fallopolis. Do not harm my guests.”

Fallopolis mouthed, ‘Killjoy’.

Skorka spoke up, “We wish to go back into stasis until this is over. We have a goal, and it has nothing to do with whatever is going on with you all.”

Quilatalap said, “If I put you in storage, you’ll likely die.” He said, “I saw the look in Tania’s eyes. I can’t tell exactly what she wanted, but she has something planned, and it will likely involve you. So if you’re not there to participate, then you will die.”

The women adventurers went silent. The man, Rexx, was still operating under the power of his Skill.

“Fine! I’ll continue the interrogation normally. Bah!” Fallopolis rattled off, “Viscount Andro Helix, of Frontier… No. Pirazel Xelxex, of Kal’Duresh… Looks like a no. North, Old Kingdom, Swamptown, Delta, the Wall… Oh. Old Kingdom. Yes. House Blue. House Tourniquet. King Rashi. Oh. There’s something. House Ribbon— House Ribbon! But not all of you. Skorka. House Ribbon. Yes.”

Erick watched her do it, keeping up with the names that were new to him, and watching as her words sent ripples through the Adventurers. They reacted to a lot more than just ‘Old Kingdom’, though— Oh.

Erick frowned at Fallopolis, saying, “They’ve been inside the Armory for two months. You already knew all this. Are you doing this to prove something to me?”

“No no.” Fallopolis said, “Well. Yes. I knew the basics of where they came from, but this business of not wanting to hook up with you is very odd. They’re from Swamptown, Erick. So why did they react to ‘Old Kingdom’ so much? That’s what gives me pause. That, and that you’re already contracted to help kill the Converter Angel, and the New Demons know this, so these people should know this, too. So why not use you? When you searched and found those hunters, after they ran? That was worldwide news! You’d be nothing but a help to these people. So. This reluctance is an unexpected phenomenon, and Tania must have caught on to that, too.

“What I just pinged off were the larger Kingdoms of the Wasteland, and I wanted to see where the discrepancies led, for myself. Old Kingdom is a very old operating area for almost every Shade who has ever gone through that place.” She turned back to the adventurers, and started naming Shades. “Cludolphis, Farix, Goldie, Queen, Perri, Rodel, Skyhook… None of these? Odd.”

Erick came to the same conclusion, mostly.

Fallopolis said, “Let’s get weird, then. Strain, Mallor, Natis, Gora, Anopix— Aha! Anopix! OF COURSE it’s that one. But I had to go through the other options first, to get a baseline, you know.”

Three adventurers flinched, in tiny, barely visible ways, as Fallopolis spoke of Anopix. Rexx did not. He was still under the influence of his Skill.

Fallopolis smiled, asking anyone, “Is that why Tania killed Anopix today?”

Their reactions were much larger, that time. Much larger. Skorka breathed deep. The other three, even Rexx, seemed to deflate, ever so slightly. Caizoa’s eyes went wide, and wet, as anger washed across her face, and she whispered denials to herself.

Skorka simply said, “Shit.”

Fallopolis triumphantly declared, “You need to pick a new route if you want to go forward with your plans! That one is closed, my sweets! Anopix is deader than the Old Cosmology!” She gestured to Erick, saying, “Here’s a route. Pretty good one, too. With the Black Star on his chest, he can kill all the Shades and then move on to the Converter Angel.”

Skorka said, “I will not give absolute power to a human.”

“Ah!” Fallopolis laughed, then said, “It IS the human-thing! Good old racism! Pops up where you least expect it!”

“I don’t want that Star.” Erick said, “And I will not accept it.”

Fallopolis’s face fell a fraction. “But it’s such a good solution! Everyone wins!”

Erick was still thinking of the bodies on the playground, as he said, “I don’t think I can kill anyone today.”

“Okay okay. Fine fine.” Fallopolis said, “Tomorrow, then. Nothing has to happen right now!”

No one spoke. The adventurers glared at Erick, or at Fallopolis. Caizoa silently glared at the table in front of her, hot tears rolling down her face. Quilatalap silently rolled pasta into sheets, and moments passed in relative silence.

Erick said, “I’d like to know more about Anopix.”

Caizoa’s face shot up to stare at Erick.

Fallopolis asked, “How much do you know of the Opalice Kingdom, and the Scaled Horns?”

Erick said, “The Opalice Empire are the people who broke the Lori Dukedom, while the Scaled Horns were the ones that tried to push for dragonkin inclusion into higher offices in the Greensoil Republic. The two events happened at roughly the same time on opposite sides of Glaquin.” Erick thought a bit more, and added, “When the Opalice Empire was destroyed and the remnants became the Wasteland Kingdoms, meanwhile, over in the Greensoil Republic, the Scaled Union was radicalized into the Scaled horns...” He asked Fallopolis. “The Opalice Empire was a nation of Script-haters. Was that you?”

Fallopolis said, “I know for an undeniable fact that the Clergy did not cause the fall of the Lori Dukedom. They were controlled, and we liked them that way.”

“Yeah. Right. A land as old and as stable as the Lori Dukedom suddenly falls to anti-Script rhetoric and you expect me to think you guys weren’t involved?”

“I mean… We were involved… In a way. But it wasn’t very direct.” Fallopolis said, “Long story short: Anopix was a dragonkin born to an incani mother and a dragon father, who reached maturity about the time the Opalice Empire was gaining traction in the Lori Dukedom. Anopix came to us while the Lori Dukedom was still burning. He became a Shade, and then he went right back into the world, looking to kill those who had taken his kingdom from him. Where all the rest of us were content to watch that part of the world burn, Anopix went on a silent rampage, cleaning up the Opalice Empire, and then, when that was done, he left the remnants of that land to their own devices.

“Anopix next set his sights on the Greensoil Republic, looking for revenge however he could get it, for the killers of his kingdom had to be human, right?” Sarcastically, Fallopolis said, “It’s not like people are dumb and hateful and controlling on their own. Anyway. Anopix had heard about their Scaled Union, and went to investigate. No one but those people are truly sure what happened, then. But soon enough, the Scaled Union changed from an instrument of slow social change, into an organization dedicated to pushing radical change. When that didn’t work, they turned to extremism, and terrorism. And then you have the birth of the Halls of the Dead somewhere in all that mess.” Fallopolis said, “Anopix has been quietly seeding war against the Republic for a long time. He’s rarely ever in Kendrithyst—”

The blue woman, Caizoa, couldn’t handle it anymore. She yelled, “And you PIGS turned our best hope for real change into Experience! DAMN YOU ALL!” She flickered, blue, then went still.

Quilatalap was staring at her. He had done something.

Caizoa sat back down in her chair, like a puppet put to rest. The other three incani glared from Fallopolis, to Quilatalap, to Erick, but no one said a word.

And then Fallopolis said, “I knew Anopix cultivated some sort of following. But to get this reaction? How close were you?”

Skorka breathed deep. Then she said, “He was a silent benefactor. Some of us were closer to him than others.”

That was a lie. A pretty big one, too.

“Why bother lying, now?” Erick asked.

Caizoa stiffened, as she sat upright in her chair. Quilatalap must have let her go. She didn’t speak, but she did hunker down in her chair.

And then Fallopolis set off a metaphorical bomb, saying, “Caizoa. You’re related to Anopix, aren’t you.” She pointed at Caizoa. “Familial relation? Did Anopix have a sister or brother somewhere? Someone he kept with him after becoming a Shade?” She narrowed her eyes, and hammered in, “Are you his grand-niece?”

Caizoa’s eyes went wide. And then her chest heaved. Her shoulders shook. And she started bawling. Snotty, tear-filled crying. It rapidly got worse, and louder.

“Yup.” Fallopolis said, “Got it.” She smiled. “That’s also how they were able to stand in front of the Clergy and not piss themselves; they’ve had practice facing Shades.” She smiled at Quilatalap. “You knew! You kept their lower halves controlled, to give them plausible deniability!”

The magenta woman, Idolizia, put a hand on Caizoa’s shoulder, and Caizoa fell into Idolizia’s arms, still crying.

Quilatalap just sighed, as he tossed fresh noodles into a pot of boiling water.

Skorka looked from her teammate, to Erick, saying, “We’re not giving humans power over anyone. Ever.”

“Good.” Erick said, “I don’t want it. But I am going to help you kill the Converter Angel when the time comes—” And then several thoughts struck Erick like a bolt from the blue. “Oh.”

Fallopolis’s jaw dropped. “You thought of something! Tell me!”

Erick looked to Quilatalap, saying, “You usually remove memories before you give out the Black Star?”

“Yeah.” Quilatalap said, “Operational procedure when giving out artifacts that have the chance to go really wrong. The Black Star is one of them.”

Erick said, “Tania is going to ask that the Black Star be given to them now. With unaltered memories.”

Fallopolis narrowed her eyes at nothing in particular, then she turned to the adventurers. “Who do you want to kill most?”

They didn’t speak. All they did was stare at Fallopolis and Erick like they were monsters.

Erick knew their unsaid answer.

Erick said, “They want to kill humans, and Tania wants to kill humans, too. You qualify as human, Fallopolis, and so do I. Hence the hatred in their eyes. Tania wants to give the Star to them and set them loose upon Kendrithyst.”

Skorka said, “You humans deserve death for what you’ve done.”

Fallopolis said, “You’re going to have to narrow that statement down, girly girl.”

“You both deserve the End.” She looked to Erick. “And you’re worse than her. That Breach Demon would have helped to finally end the threat of the Republic.”

Caizoa stopped crying long enough to say, “I want to see Uncle Anopix. Where is his body?”

“Turned to gore then ash, no doubt.” Fallopolis said, “Sorry, girl. Your uncle is gone.”

Caizoa sniffled, then continued to silently cry.

Skorka glared at Fallopolis, saying, “We’re not stupid enough to start a war against the human Shades, or the Shade-adjacent.”

Erick saw that for a lie, and he called her on it. “Why keep lying? I can already see you thinking about what it would mean to join Tania in her war. You’ve already worked with one Shade long before today, so what’s another?”

And then another thought occurred. Should he kill these people, to prevent Tania using them against every human under the barrier?

Erick asked Quilatalap, “Would this scenario be possible? Wouldn’t the Black Star kill the user if they used it like this?”

“Now that you’ve laid it all out there…” Quilatalap fished noodles out of one massive pot and put them into the second massive pot, full of cheese sauce. He said, “It sounds like a risk Tania would be willing to let these people take.”

“It’s messy, but… But it would kick it all off. Honestly, it’s getting rather stale, waiting this long for the open war to begin. If Tania does this...” She shrugged. “I can evade these young idiots, so I’m not worried about myself. So, I say: Let Tania have her plots! I should go work on my own.” She stood up. “Good luck, kids! I hope you kill plenty of Shades before the Black Star kills you.” She turned to Erick. “We can talk magic another day; there’s work to be done!” She stepped into shadows, and was gone.

Rexx, the assassin, lost his mask, as he muttered, “Well, shit.”

Idoliza said, “Seven more gods damned days in here.”

“I can put you all into storage if you want.” Quilatalap said, “But it sounds like people have plans for you, and it’ll be hard to evade those plans when you’re not yourself.”

“No storage.” Skorka said, “We live and die in the open.”

Erick asked, “Who was Anopix, Quilatalap?”

Caizoa shouted, “A wonderful man! The only good Shade out there!” She did not devolve back into tears, but it was a close thing.

Erick frowned at them. “You just said a Shade was ‘good’, and Skorka there is entertaining the idea of joining Tania’s scheme to kill the human Shades, at least. But there’s only one Black Star, right? Only one of you gets it. That means the rest of you die when you try this crazy idea.”

Skorka said, “We knew what was necessary before we tried for the Black Star. We have a plan.”

Rexx eyed Skorka, saying, “We had a plan, Skorka.” He added, “Joining a Clergy-plot will harm that plan.”

“What is your plan?” Erick asked.

Skorka looked away from Erick. Taking their cue from her, the other three began to ignore Erick, too.

It appeared that Erick didn’t rate an explanation without a Shade standing beside him. He didn’t know whether to be happy or mad about that.

Quilatalap finished plating out six large bowls of pasta, saying, “Seems this is a good time to stop talking and eat, no? Maybe you four will feel less suicidal after some pasta.” He asked Violet, “Can you help dish these out?”

Violet, who had been standing off to the side this whole time, being professionally barely seen, and not heard, did as she was asked. There was a bowl left over for her, too, but she gracefully said that she would eat later. She would probably report all of what was said to Queen, later, too. But no one seemed to care about that.

The adventurers accepted their food, in silence, and remained in silence the whole time.

It was an awkward lunch.

Partway through, Erick asked, “Oh, Quilatalap? You mentioned that the thick air from [Cleanse] was a very complicated topic.”

Skorka, Caizoa, Rexx, and Idoliza, scowled at Erick.

“We can talk afterward.” Quilatalap asked, “But have you bought all those Sights, yet?”

Erick said, “Yeah. I bought them earlier, and leveled them during your presentation. They’re all level 10.”

--

Mana Sight X, instant, close range, 5 mana per second

See the truth of mana all around you.

--

Blood Sight X, instant, close range, 5 mana per second

See the blood all around you.

--

Soul Sight X, instant, close range, 5 mana per second

See the souls all around you.

--

They were easy to level, since they were just 5 mana per second experience machines, and Erick could run all of them at the same time. He just activated them through an Ophiel who was sitting out of the way, with nothing better to do.

“Good.” Quilatalap said, “They’re not great on their own, but they are necessary for creating counters.”

- - - -

Erick looked through the back window of the house, at a small cottage partially hidden beyond some low trees. He asked, “They’re actually going to be safe over there?”

Quilatalap shut the door behind him, as he said, “They’re not safe. No one is safe, Erick. Especially not with this trouble looking to start.” He sat on the couch. “But I can help prepare you a bit. Any radiant questions, burning pages in your book?”

Erick looked at Quilatalap. “Oh. It’s a saying.”

Quilatalap laughed. “Making me feel old! I thought everyone still said that one?”

“Maybe they do?” Erick said, “I’m beginning to think that I don’t spend nearly enough time outside of my own house. I have the distinct feeling that I missed out on talking to those four; on trying to come to an understanding. I should have been able to talk to those people, to try… But… The hostility of this world still gets me… sometimes. Or maybe all the time.”

Quilatalap nodded, knowingly. “Something to work on.”

“Lots of things to work on!” Erick sat down on the couch across from him, and rattled off a few of his goals, both long term and short term, in no particular order, “The best [Dispel]. The best [Privacy Ward]. The possibility of learning [Resurrection], and the possibility of learning an [Immortality] spell. Though those last two are more curiosity than necessity. Oh! And the possibility of a [Renew] spell.”

Quilatalap thought. He said, “Let’s start with the impossibilities. [Resurrection] and [Immortality]. The first, because you’re not ready and I don’t teach that to just anyone, no matter their backing. And [Immortality] is impossible without Phagar’s direct allowance. It’s much easier to just learn enough Blood Magic and Soul Magic to keep yourself running for however long you wish.”

Erick nodded. He had expected most of that.

Quilatalap continued, “[Dispel]… Normally, I wouldn’t push people down this path, but you might do well to learn how to [Counterspell]. It's a variant [Dispel] that allows the user to spend a pittance of mana, comparatively, to lock down another spellcaster’s casting. Useless in a duel, when you might run out of mana or mess up a counter well before your opponent makes a mistake, and then you’re dead. Useless when the enemy has an Elemental Body and knows how to use it outside of a Script Second. But in certain situations [Counterspell] shines. One of those situations is when you’re in a group, and you have one dedicated Counterspeller. For you, you can probably achieve the best of all worlds by dedicating an Ophiel to this task.”

Ophiel cooed at his name.

“What about a [Total Dispel]?” Erick clarified, “Spend a thousand mana, [Dispel] any single spell. Or all the spells on a person. Or… All the spells connected to a person. That would be useful.”

Quilatalap chuckled. “That would be useful, but that’s firmly in the realm of a Destruction Wizard.”

Erick grumbled.

“The Script enforces a lot of nuances in its operations. One of those is a 1-to-1 mana cost to erase another mage’s spellwork.” Quilatalap added, “You can make a [Dispel] with some high-ratio Variable costs, but that’s either Blood Magic, or ‘tricking’ magic. I can help you achieve some of that, too.”

Erick nodded.

Quilatalap continued, “I think that the best [Privacy Ward] is going to be rather easy for you, now that you have a mana sense. As soon as you can get [Witness], you can put that and [Scry] and all the Sights you got today, backwards, into [Ward]. Or, if you don’t want to block the sight of your Ophiel, you can not include [Scry]. Play around with it. It’s only tier 2 or 3, depending on if you want to start with a good [Privacy Ward], first.

“Now, as for [Renew]…” Quilatalap asked, “What is that?”

“A spell I’ve been kicking around for a while.” Erick said, “The idea is a spell that would allow others to [Renew] ongoing magics. Here’s an example: you have your resident archmage cast a big defensive spell around a city, and then you have guards, or whoever, contribute to the defense by casting [Renew] into the shield, renewing duration, damage absorption, [Teleport]-negation. That sort of stuff. It would be like large-scale temporary enchanting, that anyone could contribute to, that would have the potential to outlast the archmage’s life by a very long time.”

Quilatalap instantly said, “Paradox Wizard. No other way to do that.”

Erick’s heart sunk. “Nooo….”

“Yes.” Quilatalap said, “But… Tell me if I have some wrong assumptions: What you’re asking to make is a Basic Tier spell that anyone can buy for a point. This spell will allow for the renewal of magic, which, when you get down to the complexity required, is like an original caster using a coin-press to churn out a spell, and then when that spell degrades, like a coin rusting, another caster comes by and meticulously fiddles with the coin to un-rust it. Is this basically correct?”

“Yes! But! [Mend] exists. This would just be [Mend] for magic?”

“Ah! But [Mend] doesn’t actually fix anything. It makes it so those items never broke.”

“… What?”

“That is what [Mend] does.” Quilatalap said, “And when the damage to an object is too deep —too ingrained in the history of the item— [Mend] fails. To make a long explanation short: In a similar way in which [Mend] fails to heal long-term damage, when magic degrades, the damage is too deep to be repaired.”

“So maybe a [Renew] that works on new-ish magic? It won’t revive a dead spell, but it will keep a young spell young?”

“No. Let me explain another way: [Mend] is physical reconstitution of an etheric construct of the manasphere that exists because items have lingering lives in the manasphere. Going in the other direction, to make mana constructs from the physical, is also possible, but that field of magic is called enchanting. But you don’t want to use artifacts or enchantments, so, that’s that.”

“But. Like…” Erick tried, “I can unrust a coin with Particle Magic.” He wasn’t able to right then, but Erick was pretty sure he could string together a few Particle Spells to unrust most any coin. “And I’ve made a Permanent duration spell before! I know it’s possible to ‘repair’ magic.”

Quilatalap took a deep breath, and sat back on his couch. He said, “You’ve got a lot of overlapping problems and topics, so let’s tackle the permanent duration spell, first.

“In the case of permanent magic, you made a spell that is readily able to be repaired through the natural vagaries of magic. I’ve made a few permanent duration spells, too. We probably made them in similar ways, with built-in methodology for self-repair. Right?”

“Yeah… Sort of.”

Quilatalap nodded. “But you’re talking about making a spell that will enable the repair of any random spell you encounter. Now, if you wish to make a specific shield spell, and then teach people some individualized spells that people have to learn that can specifically repair the specific original spell you cast, that might be doable. You might even be able to make an artifact that is able to prop up this shield you speak of, with nodes that allow the caster to imbue them with mana, to continue to prop up the shield. This has even been done before.

“But what you’re actually trying to do is have anyone repair any damaged magic. True?”

Erick said, “True… But now I’m really intrigued about this shielding artifact you speak of.”

“The real ones are called Tears of Aloeth. The fake ones are called City Shields, though no one uses them anymore since they’re so easy to break. Anti-specific-magic runes are much, much more reliable, and harder to break, since you have to stress multiple runes for the whole system to fail. Stressing and breaking a City Shield is as easy as attacking any part of the construct. Anyway—” Quilatalap continued, saying, “To be able to [Renew] with a simple spell is the realm of Wizards.

“Because here’s another fact to know: No two people cast the same magic.

“The Script makes this fact even more clear-cut, but even the Script has just codified something that has been true since the dawn of time. You see: When a person buys a spell from the Script for a point, that act of buying and accepting that spell into their soul, and then leveling that spell, is the creation of their own, personal mold in the magic. Their own coin-press, so that they can pop out the same spell they managed to cast that one time, again and again.

“Magic does not interact with other magic, not directly…

“I say that, but there’re caveats. There’s sympathetic magic or metamagic. Like [Dispel]. Or various exceedingly complicated spell-searching spells. Or any host of other minor overlaps. Even group-casting is only possible when everyone has the same spell, and even then your working might not work, for there are discrepancies between every mage, and small cracks might turn into chasms in a group-cast.

“But the fact is, is that no one truly casts from the same magic, so to create a [Renew], you would have to either make it through Paradox Wizardry, which would honestly be the easiest way, or you would have to make a spell that would…” Quilatalap went silent, thinking. When he started speaking again, his voice was much less negative. “But...” He offered, “Okay. So. As a thought experiment, there would have to be a tapping-into of the spell you wish to [Renew], and then an Altering of your own magic into something compatible with the target spell, and then you’d have to prop up what had come before… Somehow…” He went silent again. “It would be like trying to manually repair a house, and...”

Erick waited.

After a minute, Quilatalap said, “Outside of Wizardry, if such a spell were possible, it would be horribly mana inefficient, and it would be much higher than Basic Tier. You’d probably have to pull apart a Tear of Aloeth and try to recreate that divine magic, as a normal mage.”

Erick smiled wide. “That’s further than I’ve gotten!”

“Your foray into permanent magic will help you in this quest.” Quilatalap said, “But let’s talk about something else for a little while. I’ll keep thinking about your [Renew], though.”

“Okay!” Erick grinned, happily asked, “Next question! What is UP with that Thick Air! Or should I say, what is down with that thick air? It sinks pretty good.”

“Oh yes.” Quilatalap said, “That thick air you see when you [Cleanse] is another part of magic that the Script has merely codified, instead of outright changed.” Quilatalap said, “I will briefly lay out the most basic nature of magic.

“Mana comes in distinct Elements. Stone, Water, Air, Fire, Shadow, and Light. We’re ignoring all the rest for now. They exist. They matter. They don’t matter for this conversation.

“When these six combine in roughly equal measure, they form mana that is suitable for life, for balanced mana becomes something larger than the sum of its parts. But it is the breaking of that balance that leads to more life. In such a case, if there is a critical mass of life already in the area, that life eventually balances the mana out again, which leads to more life. This is a compounding cycle, where life creates mana and mana creates life.

“As long as the balance isn’t too unbalanced, that is. In such a case, life usually dies rather fast.

“But back to balanced mana: All the mana around us is partially tuned by the Script to be balanced, to generally enable life and magic. The Script keeps a loose reign on elemental balance, only truly fixing this balance when it breaks. It hasn’t broken many times since the creation of Veird, but— Eh. That’s history.

“Anyway.

“But aside from balance, mana also comes in density. Here, the Script readily enforces a good equilibrium. Not too solid, not too thin. You don’t see mana rocks on Veird, nor do you see mana vapors. All you really get is the manasphere, which is basically liquid mana.

“But consider this: in water, there is a triple point, where ice, water, and steam, can all exist at once. This is similar to what the Script does, all across Veird, all the time. But it’s not perfect. And neither is the balance of elements.

“Because life needs broken balances in order to grow and function.”

Erick was suddenly reminded of potential energy and heat energy and all the other energies he knew of, and how they related to life. Life could be said to exist in the broken balance between high and low energy states; in the drawing from high energy, to the using of that energy, to the expulsion of low energy. Erick smiled, as he saw a great deal of similarities between what Quilatalap was saying, and what he already knew.

Quilatalap continued, “So. Back to [Cleanse], and the nature of magic:

“In the Old Cosmology, if you wanted to cast a [Fireball] you needed fire mana. If you were in an area of very low fire mana, any [Fireball]s you cast would either fail, or end up as puffs of flame, and nothing more.

“Until you [Cleanse]d the space, and restored balance to the world.

“Restoring balance enabled that balance to be broken again. In this way, you could thus cast your [Fireball] at full strength.”

Erick said, “Ohh!”

Quilatalap said, “Since [Cleanse] has been codified in the Script, it has gained some additional functionality, but in the beginning, it was just the ritual to prepare a space for magic, and for life.” He added, “So when you [Cleanse], not only are you fixing the messes all around you, you’re also balancing the world with the matter turned to mana by that [Cleanse].” He finished with, “You hardly ever see it anymore, but if there’s not enough people [Cleanse]ing in a year, then the gods release large-scale [Cleanse]s all across the inner surface of the Edge of the Script, whereupon that thick air will fall through the world, toward the Core, fixing problems as it goes.”

Erick smiled. It was all so magical! And wonder—

“… Wait. So [Cleanse] turns matter into mana?” Erick said, “I mean… I see that happen all the time. But I didn’t expect it to actually mean what I thought it meant.”

“Yes. [Cleanse] turns matter into mana.” Quilatalap said, “In the other direction, mana becomes matter any time a slime is born. That’s also a major part of the mana cycle.”

“There’s a cycle?!” Erick instantly added, “I mean. Of course there is some sort of cycle?”

“There is. It’s an exceedingly complicated topic that is hard to explore on Veird, for reasons of the Script.” Quilatalap said, “And by the way: Slimes were the first [Cleanse]rs. They’re really good at balancing mana, too, if you let them. This is why slimes pop up in dungeons that have been tuned too far into one type of mana. They’re trying to re-balance the world by removing excess mana types and condensing them into their core.” Quilatalap stated, “This is how dungeoneering works: The dungeon creates an imbalance. Slimes move in to rectify that imbalance. People harvest that imbalance by harvesting the slimes. Repeat to infinity.

“Or, in a more natural setting, monsters or animals grow and spread by eating those slimes, and slimes eventually stop spawning because the imbalance is solved.” Quilatalap added, “But imbalances are almost never truly solved. There’s always more slimes spawning somewhere, in some unbalanced area.”

Erick felt like he had been slammed by knowledge.

“… Slimes are the basis for life on Veird?! And Magic?!”

Quilatalap said, “Slimes are born whenever there’s too much mana or imbalance. In being born, and in bringing balance, they thus enable more life to break that balance and flourish.”

Erick had visions of evolution, dancing in his brain. “Does it go somewhere from there? More complicated slimes? Multi-slime slimes?”

“Yes; all of that.” Quilatalap said, “Eventually, after thousands and thousands of years, slimes evolve— Back before the Script, I mean. Slimes evolved into higher lifeforms all the time, back then. Theoretically. I never saw it happen, but some immortals liked to watch it happen, and cause it to happen. There was always the occasional story of an intrepid scholar finding slimes with nervous systems or eyes, out there in the more remote parts of the Mana Ocean. But that doesn’t get a chance to happen on Veird. Not enough time. Not enough undisturbed slimes.” He whispered, saying, “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but back in the Old Cosmology, every learned person thought that our universe started with mana and slimes, and then worked up from there.”

Erick scrunched his face. He asked, “But what about the First Telling? With Melemizargo and Xoat?”

“A version of the truth, or completely true. I’m not sure; I wasn’t there.” Quilatalap shrugged. “What I do know is that the Clergy changes its dogma with each new dragon who takes up the mantle left by the old God of Magic, as each holder runs things a little bit differently. Now, I say that, and you should understand that names and timings and certain stories might have changed from one holder of that Dark Divine Spark to the next, but the First Telling about the Darkness meeting Xoat is almost certainly true. That one has never been told differently.

“But it’s also possible that they were all slimes in the beginning.”