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Though Winter was over, snow still clung to the shadowed spaces of the Forest, as cold winds filtered through the evergreen trees all around. The air smelled of spices and cooking, while the sounds of laughter and merriment and the Forest city carried far and wide.

Erick set his party down a bit further outside of the city than most, in one of the lesser-used [Teleport]-cleared areas, the one that Teressa had plotted before they embarked on this journey. As they appeared in an empty grove, Erick appreciated her nod toward keeping a low profile. He also appreciated that the festive atmosphere of the Triumph of Light was active even this far away from Treehome. Lightward sculptures rounded every tree with reds, golds, greens, and whites, casting warm colors into the cool air, to welcome visitors to the ancestral home of the Orcols.

A few guards in maybe-wood armor with maybe-wood weapons stood near the trees ahead, or sat inside a small desk area, to watch as people came in and out of the [Teleport] zone, but right now, they only had eyes for Erick’s group. They saw, and then dismissed the human man who ‘blipped’ everyone in, instead glancing toward Teressa; the only orcol in the group. Teressa stepped forward with a bright smile on her face, ready to lead the way down the stone road ahead. She got three steps to the guards and almost greeted them, before another person blipped into the clearing, directly in the path leading toward the city.

Syllea Wyrmrest, Archmage of Treehome and of the Wyrmrest tribes, stepped onto the ground next to the guards, along with her longtime friend, Bayth, the heavily muscular woman who had come to Spur alongside Syllea not too long ago. The guards glanced at the two women who didn’t blip into the proper center of the [Teleport] zone, ready to issue a citation, but all of them did double-takes as they realized who had stepped into their midst. Erick felt a pang of recognition as he watched the guards give Syllea the same look that the guards back home gave him.

Teressa stopped dead in her tracks, and stepped to the side, letting Erick come forward. Ericks didn’t get a chance to come forward, though, before Syllea greeted them before they had been there for even three seconds.

Syllea whipped her hands down and out, exclaiming, “Erick! I heard you killed all the Shades?!” She laughed a little, perhaps nervously, perhaps with true joy, as she said, “What the hell happened!”

The guards turned Erick’s way. Their already large eyes went wider as recognition passed between all of them.

Erick stepped forward, and happily said, “I would love to talk about all of that, and also, maybe, about turning the Crystal Forest back into a real forest, too. But I’m ready for a vacation. I heard Teressa booked a nice hotel?”

Syllea smiled. “One of the best. Let’s get you situated.”

Jane grabbed Erick’s bags off of the ground, as well as her own, telling him with her eyes that he should talk to the archmage. Their party rapidly reorganized, with all of them lined up behind Erick, with only Poi and him free of holding any bags. Erick appreciated that everyone was willing to work together.

He left the bags to them as he walked forward to walk with Syllea, saying, “I didn’t expect you to show up this soon. I’m glad, though.”

“Of course I came this fast! It is only proper, after all.”

Erick stepped forward, down a wide, stone path that carved through the greenery ahead, with Syllea at his side, Bayth led the way, and everyone else followed. Everything was decked out with light and color, and the trees themselves were massive things, with at least ten meters of space between the forest floor and the start of the canopy. Erick felt small, and not only because Syllea was nearly three meters tall, and Bayth was just a bit taller, but because he could tell that this forest had eyes, watching him from the manasphere with great interest.

Erick had gotten into the habit, long ago, of automatically popping all of the [Scry] eyes that tried to view him. But the eyes in this Forest were only partially the [Scry] kind. The more concerning ones were the knots of magic inside the trees that looked like eyes. The very Forest itself was watching them.

Which was fine and all, Erick supposed. This was the territory of the Arbors.

And then something happened which Erick had to stop. Yggdrasil’s [Scry] eye, which had been keeping up with Erick all the way here, popped. Erick had seen who had done it; Syllea.

Syllea didn’t even know what she had done, for popping [Scry] eyes was likely rather automatic for her, too, so she spoke as though nothing had happened, continuing to say, “It’s not every year that there’s a true Fire of the Age, and then that Fire goes and burns away the main order of Melemizargo’s Clergy.”

Yggdrasil’s [Scry] eye came back. Syllea popped it again, instantly.

Erick was ready to talk to Syllea about Shadow’s feast, but first, there was a problem he had to fix. He said, “Ah. Don’t pop that one, please.”

Syllea raised an eyebrow. “Ah? What?”

He pointed to the air. Yggdrasil’s [Scry] eye appeared where he pointed. “That one. That’s my own tree [Familiar].”

Syllea looked to the [Scry] eye, then asked Erick, “You have a tree [Familiar], too?” She frowned, but then wiped that expression away.

Erick said, “Yup. For about four days, now. He’s growing rather well.”

“Four days, and already exploring the world with [Scry]?” She said to Erick, “That’s rather fast, you know. Tree [Familiar]s aren’t like other [Familiar]s. They grow really fast. Four days to [Scry]ing means four months to maturity.”

“I know the dangers.” Erick said, “I think he’ll be good, though. And he was [Scry]ing on day 2.”

Syllea inhaled; a small gasp. “… Very well.”

“It’s a special circumstance, though.” Erick said, “I have time to help him learn how to deal with people.” He smiled, as he spoke to the [Scry] eye, “You’re stuck with me for a while, big guy.”

Faint waves of emotional acceptance and a small, childish joy, seemed to come through his connection with Yggdrasil. Erick smiled again.

Syllea looked perplexed, but she got over it, maybe. She spoke to the [Scry] eye, saying, “Apologies for popping your [Scry] eye…?” She glanced to Erick.

Erick supplied, “Yggdrasil.”

Syllea nodded, then said to the [Scry] eye, “Apologies, Yggdrasil. I hope you enjoy the sights of Treehome. If you wish to learn how to be a proper Arbor, then you might communicate with any of the Arbors of this place. They might like to talk to you, too. They are rather chatty, once you get to know them.”

“Are they now?” Erick said, “I heard they were rather silent.”

“To most people they are as silent as the Forest. But for you, who is apparently raising a tree [Familiar]? They would be very chatty with you.” Syllea said, “Honestly… I would have thought someone would have told me that you had a tree [Familiar], and I could have avoided this social blunder.” She added, “I want to spend a night talking to you, so if you have room in your schedule, please try to fit me in.”

Erick almost spoke openly about Teressa, and being here for her as his primary reason for coming to Treehome, but he shut that down. He could be in Treehome for several reasons, actually. He said, “There’s a few events I’ve come to participate in, but nothing too strenuous. Physically, anyway. I’m hoping for something of a proper vacation.”

“If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

The trees all around them were slightly larger now than they had been before, with wider spaces between each rising trunk. In the distance, squat wooden buildings appeared between the trees; the start of civilization. The scents of a busy market, with food stalls and spices, wafted on the cold air.

Syllea said, “I am glad to have been able to greet you as you arrive, but I am rather busy at the moment. Everyone likes staying at the Holy O’kabil, or at least all my guests always say they love it. But before I head off: Would you accept an invitation to dinner, tonight?”

“I will gladly accept an invitation. Where?”

Syllea smiled, showing her lower fangs. “I have a standing reservation at Overloot, but I hardly ever go. Will you join me there tonight, at 7?” She glanced backward, adding, “Everyone else can come too, of course.”

“Sounds great to me.” Erick said, “We’ll be there.”

“Excellent!” At the edge of the road, just before the buildings started, Syllea stopped. She looked down at Erick with a smile, but only because she was much taller than him. “We will see you there!” She glanced to Bayth, then seeing her friend nod, she turned back toward Erick. “See you later.”

The two orcol women vanished in a blip of thick air; there and gone.

Erick breathed in the cold, Forest air, or rather, the cold, Treehome air. It was more damp than he was used to, having been in Spur for a lot of the past year, but the cool, crisp air reminded him of being back on Earth during the Spring thaw… you know, aside from all the really tall green people in the market and streets ahead. It was a small market, though, which was rather normal for being this far from the center sprawl of the city.

Treehome was a gathering place of tribes and Arbors, with solid city centers with tall buildings and much of that metropolis look, but out here, at the edge, was where the transient orcol tribes gathered like hangers-on, setting up temporary markets and temporary homes on cleared ground. They were still under the watchful eyes of the Arbors of the city all the way out here, but this was neutral territory where anyone could stay, for a time.

Erick had heard a little about how the Wyrmrest Tribes operated, but he was sure he had not heard the full story, so as they walked forward, Erick asked Teressa, “How does everything work, here?”

Teressa seemed to have a perpetual smile on her face, but at that moment, it grew larger. She walked next to Erick, and nodded toward the streets ahead, saying, “About 75% of Wyrmrest Tribes are migratory.”

They walked down wide, stone streets, under tall canopies, toward a land of solid buildings just out of sight, while the campgrounds all around them gained more and more people as they strode deeper into Treehome. Kids, the size of full-grown adults of any other race, played with swords and spears in mock battles, while older parents or tribe members oversaw those fights. Mothers and fathers cooked lunch, aunts and uncles set up temporary wooden buildings, while grannies and grandpas sold goods on carpets near the street. Every campground held one tribe, though in some cases a specific tribe sprawled across two campgrounds. Children laughed. Babies cried. Some woman yelled at some man. A lot of people worked on the lights around their campgrounds, placing red, or white, or gold, or green lights here and there, in decorative arrangements, adding to the ones already strung up in the public spaces. Some people eyed Erick and his people, but Erick waved, and they waved back, friendly. It wasn’t often that people actually waved back at strangers! This was nice. Erick suddenly felt a lot better about everything.

Teressa continued, “Any recognized tribe can come and claim an outer territory, but they’re all heavily encouraged not to stay for more than three months.”

“Do you have to pay to stay? What about water and stuff?”

“The Arbors of Treehome provide water to every campground in the form of a small watertree that grows whenever a tribe moves in.” She scoffed, “There’s no fees.” Teressa playfully chided, “Twenty years ago, I would have wondered why anyone would think there would be fees to stay at Treehome— Anyway: the goal of most tribes is to use their temporary time at Treehome to meet up with other tribes for trading or hunting or any number of things. A lot of marriage arrangements come out of chance meetings in these campgrounds. A lot of new friends met, too.

“Celebration Hunts is a big thing, where people post Hunts at the various gathering spots in these campgrounds, or inside the cities themselves. We’ll see a lot of those during Triumph. A few of the more magically inclined, but not yet established tribes, have the goal of adding another Arbor to Treehome, to expand the home of our people, and to become one of the 25% who don’t move with the seasons. It’s those people who control the permanent structures of Treehome.”

“That’s a big discrepancy.”

Teressa mocked a frown at Erick, then said, “It’s really not some high-versus-low class thing that you’re thinking of. Every non-orcol always thinks that. Everyone is wrong.”

Kiri spoke up, “Treehome is considered one of the best places to live in the world. Just can’t live here if you don’t belong to one of the Arbor tribes.”

“And that is correct!” Teressa said with a laugh. “Oh, green gods, I haven’t been here in… In way too long.” In the Triumph lights all around, Teressa’s blond hair shimmered, as her emerald eyes glittered. She smiled all over again, saying, “And we get to stay at The Holy O’kabil! That’s Arbor O’kabil!”

Erick blinked. “We get to stay with an Arbor?”

“Yup!” Teressa lifted her arm, pointing forward. “You can almost see her through the outer trees, now.”

The canopy ahead was dense, but not complete. Beyond some of the holes in the greenery, there was even more greenery, but it was only after a few more steps that Erick could tell that that extra layer of green was much, much higher than the canopy all around. With a pressure of intent to the Ophiel on his shoulder, Erick had eyes in the sky.

“Oh.” Erick said, “She’s a big girl, isn’t she.”

Teressa smiled. Then she lost her smile. “Maybe… Don’t call the Holy O’kabil a ‘big girl’.”

“Noted.”

They passed the campgrounds, into the city, though there was no city wall. The shift from temporary wagons and houses to solid stone buildings was swift, and somewhat unexpected. Erick had known that Treehome had no city walls, unlike the rest of the world’s major cities, for the Arbors here saw all, and took care of all monsters before they could come anywhere near the people of Treehome. But still, Erick had expected some sort of delineation from temporary to permanent.

Maybe that road they had passed had been it. Or maybe not. Right in front of them was another side road just as nice as the last three. All the roads here were nice. Some of them even went over little creeks, and that was yet another nice touch to this forested land.

Except, soon enough, among the wide stone streets and increasingly larger buildings, they left the normal forest behind. Maybe the Holy O’kabil didn’t like her smaller neighbors?

The tree herself was magnificent. Though her trunk was surrounded by silver stone buildings that rose a good hundred meters into the air, the Holy O’kabil herself rose much higher. A kilometer, maybe, if Erick had to guess. Her trunk was silver, matching the buildings all around, and rising high into flat-bottom branches that stretched underneath her canopy like arteries in the air, supporting bright-green greenery above, but not below.

Erick kinda liked the silver-and-green theme.

He also enjoyed looking at the people and the city all around him. As they got closer to the Arbor herself, the roads were almost as crowded as the Adventurer District of Spur, but everyone here wore normal clothes; there wasn’t a single person with [Conjure Armor] in sight. With a blink of mana sense, Erick saw that barely anyone had any temporary spells, like [Personal Ward]s, or otherwise, active on their person. More than a few people around him might have some nice magical items on their person, but Erick’s rings were still brighter than most. Even the former ‘All-Stat’ rings around the fingers of all of his own people were only half as bright as his own true All-Stat rings.

Erick spotted another problem. He could have prepared for this one, if he gave it half a thought, but he had not. Many street signs and storefronts had smaller labels written in Ecks, but the larger signs were written in the language of the Orcols, Gargantual. He could have gotten [Language Acquisition] cast on him before he left. Ah! Whatever. He’d get that when he checked in with his ‘Minor Entity’ Status, later. Probably.

“What ya thinking about, dad?” Jane asked.

“I’m thinking I want to eat there.” Erick gestured toward a steakhouse that smelled absolutely wonderful. He asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“I want to see what a Celebration Hunt is.”

Teressa said, “There’s one every night of Triumph. We can sign you up for one. There’s always some mixed-Hunts going on, somewhere.”

“That sounds much better than dinner with Syllea.” Jane said, “No offense, dad.”

“Ha! No offense taken.”

- - - -

A main street eventually brought Erick and his party to the base of Holy O’kabil. The silver tree was herself surrounded by tall, multi-layered stone buildings with full-glass exteriors, looking like silver crystal, a circular road that encircled those buildings, with even more glass structures outside of that circle. Through Ophiel, Erick saw the whole area. The land around this Arbor was all silver spike buildings, built in concentric rings around the tree herself. She was just part of Treehome, though.

Most of the city lay to the south, where over a dozen other trees each held sway over their own parts of Treehome, each as varied as the Holy O’kabil, from lands under the boughs of trees that looked to be on fire, to places where steel and wood were joined in civilization, to where an Arbor made of ice held court over a land of heavy stone.

To the north lay the Forest, along with scattered campgrounds, residential areas, and other such places.

As far as Erick looked, he saw the same scenes play out everywhere. People in Treehome were just going about their business, either in campgrounds or in more permanent structures, where festive cheer and bright lights gave a sort of joy to the very air.

- - - -

“Welcome to the Holy O’kabil,” said a professional young man behind the counter. “Do you have a reservation?”

While the outside was a layer of reflective glass and strong stone, the inside of the hotel reminded Erick of the ‘wilderness lodge’ theme of the Adventurer’s Guild back in Spur. But with stone. And glass. And maybe it didn’t look very ‘wilderness lodge’ at all. It was certainly high-class. Erick almost felt out of place. Everyone wore nice suits, almost like Al wore, though these people were not sultan-mobsters, but just normal mobsters in cream-colored attire. Erick felt slightly out of place in his magey-robes.

Oh! Wait! There’s some orcols wearing robes over there.

Erick didn’t feel so odd, anymore.

Teressa stepped forward, saying, “Yes. Reservation under Rednail.”

The man nodded, then flipped through papers on his side of the desk—

He froze. He looked up. He set a small truthstone onto the counter between them, then asked, “Your reservation is for Rednail, correct?”

“My reservation is under Rednail. That is correct.”

The stone glowed blue.

In a way which Erick would have called impossible had it not happened right in front of him, the man turned even more professional than before. He snapped his fingers to the side. A bellhop rushed forward from out of sight. The man replaced the truthstone with five red cards with holes in them, then said to Teressa, “Your room has been prepared for you and your guests. Our guide will show you the way to the suite. These cards will open the room. The Holy O’Kabil hopes you enjoy your stay, Miss Rednail.”

Teressa took the cards, and followed the bellhop.

Erick followed along, as well, past a grand fountain and a restaurant, past a tea house, to a cleared square of land, right next to a wall of silver bark that extended far to the left and right, where the orcol-made building had tunnels extending into their neighboring buildings, and the silver ‘wall’ was not a wall at all, but the Holy O’kabil, herself. Erick looked up, to the other floors above, and to multiple [Force Platform]s, some coming down, and some going up.

Erick briefly wondered at the construction materials used to keep the building upright, as he thought back to a conversation he had with Al about the maximum size of buildings based on stone construction. This place was much more airy than the buildings of Spur. Perhaps there were buildings regulations in Spur that kept the buildings built a certain way. Or perhaps, this place was supported partially by magic.

Ever since Erick had passed the first concentric circle of silver buildings on their approach to this location, the manasphere had slowly but surely changed from random phantom images of spells and eyes and teeth and otherwise, into something calmer. Something almost like mist. Being this close to the Holy O’kabil, and seeing that mist pour off of the tree herself, he named the phenomenon as a Domain; it had to be. Or perhaps it was a spell?

It was something to investigate, for sure. But later.

The bellhop conjured a silver [Force Platform] with railings, and then stepped on.

Teressa followed, and soon, everyone was on the floating magic.

They went up, and up, and up. Past ten floors, with rooms all in front of them and the Holy O’Kabil behind them, to the eleventh floor, the very top, where the bellhop guided the platform onto the landing zone of the only room. This side of the suite was not that impressive, since it was up against the Arbor and that was a rather plain view of silver bark, though there was a nice seating area directly next to the tree, on the right. Erick did like the skylight above, though. It showed off the underside of the branches of the Holy O’Kabil, high above.

Teressa handed the bellhop the red punch card. The man slipped it into a slot on the double doors, then swung them open, saying, “Welcome to the Suite.”

It was a space of wood and marble and bright lights, with an absolutely fantastic view of the uninterrupted north. Erick walked in after Teressa, and found himself staring at the gem-like skylight and fully-glass wall of the main room. Someone had lit some incense; it smoked in a small bowl in the center of the rich-person’s room, giving off an inviting smell of cookies, sugar, and gentle spices.

The bellhop said, “If you wish for a guide to bring you up and down, you may ring this bell beside the door and one will be up within a minute. Is there anything else I can answer, before I leave?”

Erick didn’t have any questions; he walked further into the room. Poi followed. Teressa was already all the way in, and headed toward one of the rooms.

Jane squealed a little with happiness as she tossed her bags to the side and jumped onto a plush couch, positioned to view the northern Forest. The couch easily caught her weight, but an artfully arranged throw flopped into the air. Jane caught it, and gasped. She exclaimed, “Oh my gods! This is so soft!” She rubbed it on her face then wrapped it around her body. “What is this?”

Kiri had been asking the bellhop some small questions, but she stopped and turned to Jane, and rolled her eyes.

The bellhop answered, “Mist Rabbit fur.” He went back to answering Kiri.

“I’ve never heard of that before!” Jane laughed a little. “Oh. I think I need a coat made of Mist Rabbit.”

Teressa giggled. “Good luck. That little thing you have is probably a grand-rad just by itself.”

Somewhat concerned, but only because one should know how much money they’re spending, Erick asked a question he hadn’t asked yet, “How much is this place per night?”

The bellhop spoke up, “It’s free. Everything is free, for you, as guests of Archmage Syllea Wyrmrest.” He continued, “We dearly appreciate her, for it is only with people like her and our Arbors that we can live like this in the Forest.”

Teressa smiled, “I got a good deal, don’t you think.”

“Nice going, Teressa!” Jane threw the thousand-gold throw onto the couch as she got up and rushed toward the fully-stocked kitchen, saying, “Oh! Man! This is amazing! It’s all oversized and somehow that makes it even more fun. Ha! I feel like a kid.”

Teressa snorted a laugh.

Kiri spoke to the bellhop, but her question was for everyone to know, “Can you tell us the rules regarding magic, please?”

“Of course.” The bellhop gave a practiced speech, “The Holy O’kabil will not interfere with Spatial Magics, except at night, when all Spatial Magics are denied due to her empowerment of the runes hidden in all the walls. Until nightfall, you may come and go from your suite as much as you wish. Do not attempt to enter anyone else’s room except from the front entrance, as this is a gross violation and will be dealt with accordingly. Aside from those Spatial Magic warnings: Anti-Shaping runes are always active. Other types of magic are also denied, based on the needs of our Arbor. The Arbors of Treehome are all very powerful beings, with control over much of the ambient mana all around us. You might have noticed the mist in the manasphere; this is her. We urge you not to test the limits of our Arbors, for while they are benevolent, they are not easily coerced, and will take such attempts as an affront to their freedom and their choice to support the life around them.”

Erick asked, “What about if I want to put up a [Prismatic Ward] in this space?”

The bellhop blanked for a second, as though he did not expect such a question. He recovered, and said, “Solid Wards are allowed in your room— In your suite, only. Though the Holy O’kabil does her utmost to protect everyone around her, and likes it when people depend on her, she recognizes that not everyone is ready to accept her protection that easily. Please keep your Solid Ward within the confines of your suite.”

“Okay.” Erick nodded, “Sounds good. Thank you. Is that everything?”

Kiri nodded. “That’s all I wanted.”

The bellhop glanced from Erick, to Kiri, then not seeing Teressa because the woman had already picked a room, he bowed. He stood straight, and said, “We hope you enjoy your stay. Please don’t hesitate to hit the bell for any and all of your needs. We are here to ensure you enjoy your stay. The menus are on the kitchen counter.”

Erick said, “Thank you for the escort.”

The bellhop bowed. He righted, then said, “Good day.” He turned and left, shutting the doors behind him.

Erick instantly flooded the room with his light and his [Lodestar], and seeing nothing untoward, he scouted the edges of the suite. With the edges defined, he had an Ophiel cast a 50,000 point [Prismatic Ward]. 300,000 defensive points of dense air flooded through the space…

And Erick felt better. A bit safer. A bit more restful.

He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the same viewing couch Jane had vacated, whereupon he wrapped himself in the fluffy blanket— “Wow. This is soft!”

“I know!” Jane had finished combing through the kitchen and was now fixated on the menus for room service. “I want one of those blankets, and also!” She pointed to the menu, saying, “This. I want this. ‘Aunt Firemaw’s Blazing Beef’. Supposed to be ten out of ten stars on the heat index! It’s time for lunch anyway, right?”

Teressa came out of her room, saying, “This place is great.”

Kiri got into her own room, on the second floor of the suite, and happily said, “Look at that bed!”

Erick heard his apprentice flop onto a large, soft surface, followed by a luxurious groan, and a mumble that she needed to get a new bed when they got back to Spur. Erick agreed. More luxury in life would be nice. He wrapped himself in the soft blanket, and told everyone, “Go ahead and do whatever you want. I have some stuff I need to do without going anywhere.” He added, “And I also need room service! Let’s order a cake.”

“Beer, please,” Teressa said.

“We got beer!” Jane opened up a cold box behind her and yanked out a mini-keg, saying, “Beer!” She pulled out a smaller keg, saying, “And liquor!”

“That’s not going to be enough,” Erick said. “Order some more. But, before we do that, I must tell you that I don’t think you need to be alarmed, but we’re being watched. Heavily.”

All mirth left the common room. Kiri stepped out of her private room. Teressa frowned a little, but Jane went from happy, to happily ready to cut someone. It was a subtle difference that most people would miss when it came to his daughter, but Erick readily recognized the shift.

Poi, who was already on high-alert, confirmed Erick’s words with, “The Arbors are watching. Every single one of them is focused on us.”

Erick said, “I’m pretty sure they’re waiting for you all to slip off, or something. Or for me to fall asleep. I don’t mean to air orcol secrets, but you all already know of the Red Dream. It would surprise me if the Arbors of Treehome weren't already a part of that Dream.”

Everyone but Erick looked to Teressa.

“… They are.” Teressa’s face scrunched, as though fighting off a great embarrassment, as she said, “When I spoke of marriages before, to find a partner through the Arbors of Treehome is considered a great gift. They give this gift through the Red Dream.” She rapidly tried to diffuse the situation, saying, “And of course the Arbors are watching! That’s what they do. It’s not a big deal. You’re never safer than when you have an Arbor watching over you.”

Erick yawned, saying, “That’s why I’m pretty sure this [Sleep] they’re trying to cast on me isn’t a big deal.”

Teressa frowned. “It’s not! That’s— They wouldn’t do that.”

Jane set down what she was doing and focused on her father.

“Teressa is right about it not being a [Sleep].” Poi said, “It’s not a [Sleep], you’re just exhausted, sir. You stressed yourself out when you stepped us here.”

“Oh? You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Teressa said, “See! It’s fine! The Arbors are good people.”

Jane and Kiri shot Teressa a look.

Teressa shot them a look right back.

“That’s all well and good, then.” Erick said, “I was worried when I couldn’t see the spell effect.” He lazily trailed a hand through the air, saying, “The magic in this place is subtly messed up. It’s under someone’s control, and I have no doubt that it’s controlled by the Holy O’kabil. Take note of the weird intent in the air. It looks like a barely-there mist. It’s a Domain; it has to be. Jane. Kiri. You two need Domains going forward, unless you want to get squashed by one of the higher powers out there.”

Teressa lost a little bit of her surety.

Jane kept her voice even, her anger barely heard, as she said, “And we just walked in here?”

“It would be insulting not to accept the invitation. And Teressa is right.” Erick glanced over to Teressa, instead of just looking at her through the light, to make sure that she saw that he had seen her. “You did nothing wrong.”

Teressa currently didn’t look like she had done nothing wrong. She looked positively crushed, as though someone had told her they accidentally killed her dog.

“Don’t worry, everyone,” Erick said, “Treehome is a rather nice place, by all accounts. I doubt anything would happen to any of us besides some rough questions, which I expected no matter how any of this happened. That we’re in a nice, popular hotel right next to the Arbor herself, leads me to believe that nothing will happen.”

A knock came from the door.

Everyone tensed.

Through the light, Erick saw the person at the closed front door, though he didn’t know who she was. She was just some orcol woman of indeterminate, possibly old age, with white hair and bright green eyes. She wore a fancy, Mist Rabbit coat, like some rich fashionista. Erick had no idea who she was. She was something of an enigma, so Erick flicked on his mana sense and [Soul Sight].

His spells proved the identity of the mystery woman more than any introductions could.

Her soul did not exist as a normal soul existed, in the body, but rather it existed outside of her body, like a diffuse indentation in the misty, Domain-laden air. In some strange way, Erick couldn’t help but compare the woman’s somewhat-soul to the color, density, and the misty feeling that exuded from the trunk of the Holy O’kabil, just a dozen meters behind the woman.

The woman glanced toward Erick’s sight, then turned her eyes back toward the door. She waited. Erick sat up in his chair, tried not to yawn again, then opened the door with a light touch. The woman on the other side glanced through the room, and stepped into the dense air of the room like she had been invited.

She had not been invited, though.

Jane, Kiri, and Teressa did not need to know that quite yet, though.

“Hello, Holy O’kabil.” Erick said, “Pardon me. I haven’t prepared any gifts for this sudden meeting.”

With a curt attitude, the woman said, “I gain much prestige in hosting you while all the other miscreants of Our Home fail time and again to get a nice enough hotel up and running.” She smirked. “We all wanted you here, but I’m the one that got you! But though you have not prepared, there will be an exchange of gifts. On the part of Our Home: We want some light rain this evening, and every evening, as long as you can make it last with one cast. On my part: I want a nice overview of what happened at that Shadow’s Feast. Omit whatever you want, but I will have my full accounting.” She said, “For yourself: what do you want? I’ll make it happen. Don’t get too greedy.”

Erick smiled. “I want a nice, bed-sized Mist Rabbit comforter.”

“I see you being modest, and I don’t like it. You will have your comforter by tomorrow, but ask for something more at a later date.” Holy O’kabil asked, “My rain? My overview?”

“A [Telepathic] overview? I am not in the mood to talk to someone about all of that right now.”

“Acceptable.”

Erick looked to Poi. “Can you make that happen? Or should I give her a copy?”

Poi turned toward the representative of the tree, and said, “One moment. A Mind Mage verified copy will be—”

“Partially acceptable. I will take that, but that is not enough. I also want one directly from you.”

‘Okay.’ Erick opened a connection to the Holy O’kabil, sending, ‘Ready?’

‘Yes,’ sent the person/tree standing just inside the room, just inside his [Prismatic Ward].

Erick sent off a 5000 mana accounting of Shadow’s Feast. It wasn’t the most organized thing he had ever done, but it was close. With some emotional and otherwise distance from the events of three days ago, he had managed to condense and understand much of what had happened to him, and around him, into a cohesive narrative. Hopefully that would be enough to appease his host.

After a moment, the Holy O’kabil said, “Acceptable.” She looked toward Poi. After another moment, she said, “Also acceptable.”

Before she could say anything else, Erick had an Ophiel lightstep through the panoramic windows, into the sky, to gain an uninterrupted view of the target, so he could properly cast a [Control Weather]. The sky was mostly clear, with a few nascent clouds drifting through the air, and through the canopies of the Arbors of Treehome, but at Erick’s touch, the heavens shifted. Nothing happened right away, but by the time night rolled around, rain would surely fall. With another thought, Erick recalled Ophiel to the room, to sit upon his shoulder.

The Holy O’kabil declared, “Excellent. If you are wondering what foods to order from the service, I suggest anything that is made of monster meat. I pride myself in growing strong people, and that meat helps to make you strong. Only the best for our guests here at My Hotel.” She nodded, then, not waiting for any confirmation, or otherwise, she stepped out of the room. The door shut behind her.

No one else saw, but Erick certainly did, as the woman’s existence melted away into the mists once she was out of sight.

Kiri asked, “Did you give her permissions, Erick?”

He wondered who was going to ask that, first. He answered honestly. “Nope. She just walked on into my [Prismatic Ward]. This is why you need Domains if you want to run in the big leagues, or not get squashed by some passing power.”

Jane asked, “But you have a Domain?”

“Just of Light, and of Withering.” Erick said, “[Prismatic Ward] is partially Light based; I doubt my empowerment works with that spell because that spell is also Shadow based, along with all the other elements. But besides that, this place is thick with mist. It’s been under the Holy O’kabil’s power for a long, long time. And besides all that: This [Prismatic Ward] is Ophiel’s. My Solid Ward is still around the house, back in Spur. But enough about that.” He changed subjects, “Order some room service, Jane. Get some of that monster meat. I could eat some fried chicken.” When worry still clouded the penthouse suite in a way almost more tangible than the faint fog in the surrounding mana, Erick said, “Come on now! Less worries! More vacation! Pop those bottles, Jane. Let’s get it started.”

Jane frowned a little, but she picked up the menus again. Teressa picked up Erick’s bags and moved them into a room. Poi went to his own room. Kiri frowned a little, too, but eventually she went to the kitchen, to see the menus.

Soon enough, Erick relaxed back into the couch, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

The Mist Rabbit blanket was rather perfectly comfortable though, so that was nice.

- - - -

Jane looked to a set of tubes, set into the wall, and a small container that fit that wall. Right beside those tubes, next to the menus on the counter, was a pad of paper and a pen. With the supplied bit of paper, she wrote down the orders she had taken from the group, then slipped that paper into the container. The container went into the tube with the down-arrow.

She pressed the down-arrow button.

Suddenly, suction pulled that container out of Jane’s hands, eliciting a surprised, happy giggle from Jane.

She declared, “Pneumatic tubes! I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Teressa said, “Pretty popular in some places.”

Kiri said, “Not that popular. People gotta work them all the time, constantly.”

“If you got an Arbor though?” Jane asked Teressa, “That does most of the lifting for you?”

“Well…” Teressa said, “The Arbors help us, and we help them. It’s a mutual arrangement.” She strongly added, “The Arbors are good people.”

“Sure sure sure,” Jane said. “I, too, like someone watching me all the time.”

Teressa threw up her hands, saying, “Bloody damn! You say it like they’re afflicted by some perversion! Like they’re peeping on people in the bath!”

Kiri asked, “Do they? Is that something I should be worried about?”

Teressa glared.

Kiri and Jane giggled.

A minute later, the container came back, smacking into the top of the up-arrow tube with a pleasant ‘ding’. Jane rushed over to retrieve the message. She happily declared, “Lunch will be here in twenty minutes!” She flopped the paper in her hands, adding, “I expected there to be another note here. Something spooky, perhaps. Very disappointed.”

With a spooky voice, Kiri said, “Weeerrreee waaatchiiing youuuu pooooo.”

Jane laughed loud. Teressa frowned.

- - - -

Lunch was great.

There was chicken that was too spicy for Erick to even be near, but which Jane practically inhaled, sweating all the while. Drinks made of fruit and ice. A charcuterie board sized for an orcol family, with crackers and cheeses and preserved meats and fresh fruit.

It was a good meal, but it was also a meal that Erick could not properly appreciate. The meat tasted off, somehow. The drinks felt thin. The cheeses were gooey, and not much more than that. Everyone else seemed to enjoy them, so he knew the problem was with himself. This was just a spat of bad health, is all. Nothing to really worry about, considering Erick knew the source of the problem, and it was a problem that was all his fault. He was the one who actually went and used [Death’s Approach] to something to the tune of 3 million mana, after all. Maybe more? It was a powerful spell, with a downside that would take at least another full week to recover from. Being inside the Restful air of his [Prismatic Ward] helped, though.

Poi had probably been right. Erick did feel tired after he moved the five of them several thousand kilometers to Treehome in the space of five seconds. That exhaustion just didn’t hit right away. It took a while.

Erick glanced at his own soul, through the eyes of Ophiel, sitting off to the side.

His inner core of white light was a ripped thing, with edges like cheesecloth. It was better today than it had been yesterday.

Comparatively, Jane’s soul was a dark blue thing as solid as a stone. Kiri’s was a little disturbed, but even her green soul was nice and solid. Poi was fine; solid blue there. Teressa… The orcol’s soul was in decent shape, but she was more disturbed than anyone else in the room, save for Erick himself. She was hiding her own hurt well, but Erick could tell, when Teressa glanced out of the windows or looked down for a moment too long or sighed, that she was ready for some private communion with her own ghosts of the past. If the others noticed Teressa’s inner plight, they did not give themselves away.

Jane ate the last spicy chicken strip, enjoying the sweat, as Kiri watched, disbelieving, and a little bit disgusted.

Erick smiled. Then he pushed his plate away from his seat, and said, “I’m going to lay down for a while.” He got up. “Teressa? Can I talk to you, first?”

Teressa whipped her head around to look at Erick. “Sure, boss.”

- - -

Inside Erick’s room, he stood to one side, while Teressa stood to the other. Erick shut the door behind them. Before the large woman could get any more worried, either about him or about herself, Erick said, “I’m not feeling great, but I want to be there for you. Whatever you need. I know you want to do something special and likely private during this Triumph, but you don’t have to suffer in silence. I want to be there for you, but if you don’t want me to, let me know before you decide to do whatever you need to do.”

Teressa listened, then she said, “Thank you, boss. I’m…” She looked ready to deny him. But then she shifted. She said, “If it’s just you, then yeah. I would like you to come with me.”

“I can do that.” He stepped closer to her, craning his head up, to ask, “I’ll be here for you.”

Teressa’s soul shifted. Solidified. She smiled as she held back tears. Her voice was a whisper, “Thank you.”

Erick took her hand, and she let him. He said, “You’re alive. The Witch is dead. Her curses and her traps are nothing more than bad memories, but bad memories still hurt.”

Teressa sobbed, once.

Erick continued, “They still hurt, and that’s okay.”

Teressa gripped Erick’s hand, then let go. She put on a smile, laughed once, and said, “I thought I was over this, years and years ago. I will get over it; I promise.”

“No need to push yourself like that. You’re doing great.” Erick said, “You should know: I used what you told me about [Witness] and your own mana sense to gain a mana sense for myself during Shadow’s Feast. It was very helpful. It has been very helpful. You’ve been a great help, Teressa.” He added, “I’m still working on [Witness], though.”

With a faint smile that suited her well, Teressa said, “I’m sure you’ll get it soon enough, boss.”

“Just gotta find some time.”

As though talking to herself, and Erick, Teressa said, “We have lots of time, now.”

Erick nodded. “We do.”

“Thank you, boss.” Teressa excused herself from the room, saying, “Have a good rest,” as she shut the door behind her.

Erick immediately went to bed and zonked right out.

- - - -

There was a forest.

Cool and rainy.

Growing tall, and deep.

Wind flowed through branches.

Water rushed through streams, brilliant red, the color of enchanted blood.

None of the celebrating people seemed to mind the red of the rivers.

- - - -

Erick woke to a panoramic view of a sunset sky. He stretched, cast a [Cleanse], checked on his various Ophiel (and found nothing untoward), and checked on the other people in the suite. Jane, Kiri, and Teressa were all out. Only Poi was left, sitting by his lonesome in the living room.

“Hey, Poi,” Erick called out, his voice reaching past his door and into the main room, “I’m gonna try something odd. Don’t mind me.”

“Sure thing!”

Erick said to whoever might be listening, but mostly to the mists in the mana all around him, “Some privacy, please.”

After a moment, the mists around him retreated. Erick smiled. He nodded to himself, and then, still in bed, cast a [Sealed Privacy Ward] around the room, cutting off most of the outside world. He still needed to unlock and then buy [Witness] so he could remake [Sealed Privacy Ward] able to completely block all forms of spying, but that might have been overkill for a simple Status conversation.

He sent off a small prayer to Rozeta.

A blue box appeared.

--

Welcome, Erick Flatt, Minor Entity of the Script!

This is your first time using your Minor Entity access, so there are some procedures to check before a full connection can be established.

Checking privacy...

--

Erick waited.

Another blue box appeared.

--

Success! Privacy meets bare minimum requirements.

Checking Status...

--

Erick waited.

Another blue box appeared.

--

Success!

You are now a registered member of the Minor Entities of the Script!

Choose your method of communication (This can be changed later):

1) Telepathic.

2) Summoned to Speak with Rozeta, with accompanying time dilation. (Better for more privacy)

--

“One.”

The blue boxes vanished.

Erick sat, waiting.

After several moments, a divine fire hovered in the air, and Rozeta’s voice came to him, ‘Oh! Erick! Hello. You’re in Treehome? That’s a nice place. What Status-thing can I do for you?’

‘Hello. Yes. Nice to talk to you like this.’ Erick laid back in bed, and sent, ‘I’m wondering which is better to drop for Quest Board? 10% Spell Cost Reductions, or Force Savant?’

‘Let me… You gonna wear those rings all the time?’

‘Yes.’

‘Spell Cost Reduction. You can drop that one. Force Savant has some nice interactions with the creation of Force Magic, so I’d keep that one if I were you.’

‘Then I will take that advice, please.’

‘Just one second…. There!’

Erick felt a shift in something far off, like a marker on an unseen horizon had changed without him realizing it till now. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but it was a feeling nonetheless.

‘You’re all set up for the Quest Board. That’s a complicated thing, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’

‘Thank you. Another question: Is my [Quick Spell] the good version?’

‘… I could answer the first one because it was a Class Ability question of numbers, and that was easy enough to crunch on my end, if only to save you some experimenting of your own. But this one; I cannot answer this.’

‘Fair enough.’ Erick went right along his questions, asking, ‘Sorry to be so fast about this, but are these New Stats real? What’s going on in there?’

‘I prefer fast. But...’ With a tired voice, Rozeta said, ‘They’re real for you. For now, there’s no telling how they’re going to affect other people.’ Slightly more serious, she said, ‘There’s no telling how they’re going to affect you, in the long term.’

Erick thought about that, then said, ‘This Converter Angel. Why don’t they just ‘Convert’ everyone? From my understanding, the Breach Demon the Halls of the Dead almost summoned was going to murder everyone they could and turn the rest, creating a tide of demons to wash across the Greensoil Republic… But this Angel is operating in the shadows and picking individual people for its purposes. So why the different modus operandi from the Breach Demon?’

‘Ahhh… I have to be neutral, Erick. I can’t answer this one.’

‘I didn’t think you could, but thank you anyway.’

‘I can say that there are Angel and Demon Entities on that Quest Board. You might be able to find some more answers there.’ Rozeta paused. She said, ‘I can’t say much, but Erick… Thin as it was, you were under Melemizargo’s protection for most of that Shadow’s Feast. Are you understanding what I’m saying?’

Caizoa had already spoken her objections to Erick’s involvement in the hunting and killing of the Converter Angel; he would try to talk to the damned thing first and then get Converted. Caizoa seemed to think the Converter Angel would fuck him over as soon as it could, and then fuck over everyone else in the process. It seemed that Rozeta thought this way too, though she was unwilling to voice that thought.

Erick said, ‘Yeah. I understand.’ He added, ‘Ah, I have one more question, then: Got any suggestions for a Soul Magic teacher?’

‘There might be something for that on the Quest Board. I know there are more than a few people who are looking for apprentices to pass their knowledge.’ Rozeta said, ‘I can’t help you more than this.’

Erick had another question, but he was not prepared for it, on his end. He almost smacked himself. He should have grabbed a grand rad from home before he started this communion. He asked anyway, ‘[Language Acquisition]?’

‘Sure.’ Rozeta added, ‘Just hold a grand rad sometime in the near future and will it to me, and that’s fine. You owe me a grand rad for switching out your Class Ability, too. So that’s two you owe me. Maybe don’t get in the habit of this. It’s not a good look.’

Shit. He needed one for his Class Ability switch, too? ‘Uh. Sorry about that.’

‘It’s fine, Erick. I know you’re good for it. I’m not able to interact with your bank account like Irogh was, though. So you do need to get me those grand rads yourself. Preferably sooner rather than later.’

‘Why do you need grand rads, anyway?’

‘I won’t answer that.’

Erick let that go and asked, ‘What’s the fallout of Shadow’s Feast looking like? Anything I need to be worried about?’

‘It’s all still happening, and yes, you likely do have a lot to worry about, but I can’t say more than that. Neutrality, and all.’ With a sad smile coming through her voice, Rozeta said, ‘Good luck out there, Erick.’

The connection broke. Rozeta’s divine fire vanished from the air.

Erick laid in bed for a moment longer, contemplating Rozeta’s ‘It’s all still happening’. Then he canceled the [Sealed Privacy Ward] and got up. Opening the door to his room and stepping out into the living room, Erick paused to take in the beauty of the room, draped in the oranges, golds, and purples of sunset.

Then he asked Poi, “Where is everyone else?”

“Jane went to find a Celebration House to sign up for a Hunt. Teressa and Kiri went to watch.”

Erick frowned, disappointed. “I guess it’s just you and me for dinner with Syllea, then.”

“But.” Poi smiled. “All the Hunts are full. Jane signed up for tomorrow’s Hunt. They’re wandering around town right now, and they won’t be back for dinner with the archmage.”

“Ah…” Erick frowned for an entirely different reason. “Why don’t they want to come get a free dinner with an archmage? That’s not right.”

Poi shrugged. “I’m looking forward to it. Gonna get me some fish, for sure.”

That brought a little smile back into Erick’s life.

He turned around, went back into his room, and went to his bags. What to wear for dinner with Syllea? He could wear this white thing… but he wore that to Shadow’s Feast, and wouldn’t that be a bit tacky?

To take his mind off of fashion, Erick briefly checked his Quest Board...

And then he sat down.

He read, and read, and read, and only stopped because Poi called out that it was half an hour to go-time. Erick rapidly put on the white robes, and didn’t bother to think too much about how he had gotten them from Violet, who was now certainly dead, with her body lying in the rubble down in the Brightwater.

Ahh…

He needed a drink.

- - - -

Erick and Poi journeyed a short five kilometers, though streets filled with revelers and bright lights and drum beats, to a different part of Treehome where the architecture of the buildings did not resemble ‘silver spikes around a tree’, as was the land around the Holy O’kabil. Instead, this place was pure brutalist. Concrete-like stone slabs thirty meters tall. Walls that were devoted a hundred percent to function over form. Barely any windows anywhere, except for as thin lines here and there, filled with foot-thick glass. Balconies abounded at every elevation of this part of town; solid, thick grey slabs, that seemed to be more like staging areas to organize an army, than places to watch the sunset. The only thing allowed to be pretty seemed to be the tree at the center of it all, sitting on his vast array of blocky buildings, like some sort of dragon on a hoard; Firebrand.

The massive Arbor rose tall above it all as a gangly, yet solid, collection of vines in the shape of a tree, with glowing orange leaves that looked like they had just flaked off of burning hot iron. Firebrand was a thunderhead blotting out the sky, made of sparkling gold and burning red depending on how the wind rustled the leaves. This was his neighborhood, for sure, and it showed in the small corners of shaped stone, and along the edges of tall walls. Vines of the main tree were everywhere, but only if you looked for them. Once Erick noticed those vines, he couldn’t help but notice them hidden, and not-so-hidden, everywhere.

He also couldn’t help but notice the ‘city guard’ in this area, with their beaten-copper armors, glancing at him from the various corners of buildings, as he walked through the crowds, toward the restaurant called Overloot. The guards noticed him, but they didn’t bother him, so that was nice.

The manasphere filled with some sort of fiery Domain as he got closer to Firebrand himself. It seemed rather similar to the Domain around the Holy O’kabil, but with fire, instead of mist.

Erick had his own Domain active and tucked into his shoes, along with his [Greater Lightwalk]. His own Domain pushed back the fire in the air, but he didn’t press too hard, and Firebrand didn’t push back too hard, either. Being this close to another’s established domain was like putting his hand up against a soft wall that could turn hard at any moment, but which chose not to.

… Which was fine, but not very relaxing.

Would he ever be able to actually relax?

… Probably not.

- - - -

Overloot was a three-story cube on the south side of Firebrand, across a large courtyard from the local branch of the Adventurer’s Guildhouse. The Guildhouse was four times the size of Overloot, with people of every race on a dozen balconies, eating or drinking at any of a handful of restaurants or bars inside the Guildhouse, or warming themselves by any of a dozen large bonfires scattered across the cliff-like projections from that massive building. They were having a rowdy time over there, under Triumph lights, and beside the warm fires.

Overloot was a higher class place, but only because of the money involved.

Erick walked through the first floor, ‘the butchery’ according to the sign, and saw unicorn corpses being dismantled by expert, bloody butchers. That shimmering meat was slapped onto trays, bound for the restaurant on the top, alongside other monsters Erick had briefly heard about at one point in time or another.

Furnace turtles, each the size of a hippo, famed for their shells; currently being dismantled for giant soup pots.

Pale walkers, which were like spiders the size of horses, but also not like that at all. They probably tasted like crab.

Scarlet kings, which were like the flying fish of the Crystal Forest, but much more violent. Erick glanced at Poi, just in time to see the man close his almost-drooling mouth. Erick smiled. He would be sure to order some of that at some point in the evening, unless Syllea had plans already.

One odd item were the invisible shrooms, which Erick only saw by blinking on his mana sense. The guy was just slamming his cleaver onto nothing, until that moment, and then he was slamming his cleaver through dense white flesh, making mushroom steaks.

Continuing up to the second floor required invitation, or standing in a line and getting lucky. Erick walked to the front of the line, drawing envious looks from people who clearly had enough money to eat anywhere they wanted. With how nicely everyone was dressed, Erick was glad he picked his nicest clothes. He reached the front line and did not get a chance to speak before the bouncers noticed him, and recognition caused them to flinch. Ah. So much for anonymity. It was kinda nice walking through town with no one recognizing him.

A bouncer unlatched a thin rope that stretched from one side of the entrance to the other, as a man came down from the room beyond; the host, no doubt. He was certainly dressed the part, with sleek lines to his sleek almost-tuxedo.

“Welcome to Overloot.” The man backed away, saying, “Please follow me.”

Erick followed, glad that the man hadn’t openly called his name and spilled what little normalcy there was about all of this. The people in the line were giving him looks, and that was kinda fun.

The dining room was not a dining room. The second floor was a large, nice bar area, with tables to stand at and music playing in the back and people enjoying many small foods and much larger drinks. Erick had felt a bit small, since many of the people around him were orcols, but some of the standing tables had platforms for the shorter people to stand upon.

The host brought Erick and Poi to one such table. Erick chuckled a little as he stepped onto the raised platform, and wondered if there were ‘high seats’ waiting in the proper restaurant, above.

The host looked scandalized as Erick giggled; maybe he thought something was wrong? He asked, “Is there something I can get you right away, sir?”

“I’d like some beer, but don’t mind me.” Erick said, “I’m just laughing at the logistics of orcol architecture. This is how your kind must feel back at my home. I might need to adjust a few things when I get back to make everyone more comfortable, for sure.”

The man lost his worried look. With a gentle smile, he said, “It’s sometimes hard to account for everyone, but we try. Thank you for noticing.”

A waitress came by. The host left. Everything proceeded exactly like a normal restaurant, and that made Erick inexplicably happy, for some strange reason. He certainly couldn’t do this back home; not without drawing a crowd.

It wasn’t till the waitress brought around Erick and Poi’s drinks, that Syllea and Bayth walked into the room. Erick noticed them before they noticed him, for that was easy enough to do when the entire room’s energy whipped toward the front entrance, and people suddenly stopped talking.

Bayth appeared first, looking as muscular and as strong as ever. She moved into the room like a solid wall of power, and then stepped aside.

Syllea wore a dress made of crystal and cloth that barely held her ample chest inside. Her blond hair cascaded. Her eyes were bright, and beautiful. She locked her sight with Erick from across the room, then smiled wide, and happily said, “Archmage, Particle Mage, Erick Flatt! Destroyer of Shades! Liberator of Ar’Kendrithyst! Welcome to Treehome!” Into the muttering silence that followed, and as several pairs of eyes turned Erick’s way, Syllea said, “This year’s Triumph of Light is the most aptly named Triumph of them all, so let’s drink to the future, and to all that comes next! I’m buying out Overloot for the night, so drink up, everyone!”

At that, there was no muttering, or murmuring. There was only cheering that rocked the building in its ferocity, and the sounds of bottles popping, and the doors to the kitchen thrown wide, as trays upon trays of meats and otherwise came out into the room, seemingly right on cue, and all eyes turned toward Erick, as Syllea walked up to him.

Erick smirked, saying, “I was beginning to enjoy the anonymity.”

“Ha! No more of that, now! Besides, with me here, it’ll be five Script Seconds before someone realizes who you are. Might as well pull that leech off when you see it.” With a gleam in her eyes, Syllea took her place on the other side of the standing table, saying, “Rejoice in your accomplishments, Erick. You’ve earned them.”

The host suddenly and silently appeared with a bucket of ice containing four bottles of wine. He popped one, and began setting drinks out for Erick, Syllea, Poi, and Bayth.

Accepting his drink with a smile, Erick said, “Thank you.”

Holding her own drink, Syllea said, “Could have done without the rain, though.”

“I was asked to do that.” Erick said, “Besides! It’s just a light misting.”

As if cued into his words, the sky outside crackled with faint lightning and a rain began, though it was barely seen through the thin windows with their thick glass, or heard through the density of the walls. Hard to hear over the party, too.

He sipped his wine. He smiled.

It tasted good.

The night wore on, wonderfully, tastefully, and in great quantities, too.

Contrary to Erick’s expectations, there were no talk of politics. There were no veiled conversations, between him and Syllea or anyone else that came over to their little part of Overloot and who wanted to talk. There was only a nice time, from talking about the dishes that the waitress paraded out for Syllea and Erick’s approval, to discussing the histories of Treehome and the surrounding areas.

- - - -

On the third floor of Overloot, over small sample dishes of cakes and dessert wines and in a corner of the building slightly away from the main party happening everywhere else in the building, midnight came and went. The night had turned away from the sudden party of before, becoming something more intimate. While Poi and Bayth stood to the respective sides of the sit-down table, and almost no one felt like approaching the archmages’ VIP area, the conversation turned to trade.

Syllea lifted her half-drained drink, which was a fruity red thing this time, and said, “Alcohol is a good trade. Blueweed is fine, too, if you plan to get into adventuring business. Ain’t much call for those medicinal herbs outside of easing hard memories.”

Erick stared at Syllea like she had spouted off some fundamental truth. “Blueweed is good for that? Holy shit! I should have planted a square kilometer of that stuff, then!”

Syllea laughed. “It’s a short term solution to the hard memories.” She asked, “Do you want some?” She decided, “We can get some. I’m gonna get you some. Ah! I have some. Here—” The archmage waved her hand and Spatial Magics suddenly dropped a small wooden box upon the table. She lifted the lid, showing strips of blue grass on one side, next to what had to be a grinder. “Non habit-forming, relaxing blueweed. Perfect for those difficult nights.”

Erick watched, ready to try anything, because sure? Why not?

But Syllea touched the grasses, and frowned. “Er. It’s all dried up. Ah. I didn’t think it had been that long since I did this. Ah. This won’t do.” She waved a hand, and the box vanished. “Let’s go get some fresh stuff.”

Bayth asked, “Are we done here, then?”

“I think so.” Syllea asked, “Unless you’re still hungry, Erick?”

“Oh. No. I am stuffed! This place is wonderful.” Erick asked, “Are you good, Poi.”

“That Scarlet King was great. I’m good.”

“Then!” Erick said, “This has been absolutely wonderful, but I’m ready for a walk and some illicit drugs.”

“Now now.” Syllea smirked. “Blueweed is perfectly legal. It’s those variants you have to watch out for.” She stood, wobbled a bit, then righted, saying, “I’m gonna settle the bill, then we can go.” She whispered, but not really, “How much do you think it is? I think I’m gonna need to take up some contracts after tonight.”

Erick smiled, mocking, “You poor, poor archmage. Whatever will you do for funds.”

Syllea snickered.

Within minutes, there was an uproar of disappointment from the patrons over Syllea’s and Erick’s departure, a quiet joy from the people in the kitchen finally being allowed to shut down the kitchen, a disappointment (that was really relief) from the host that perhaps he had not done enough for her, and then Erick and Syllea were back on the brightly lit streets of Treehome, and walking west.

- - - -

Outside of a small shop tucked away in a quiet, high-class part of town where the architecture was wood and stone and pretty to look at, where the rain drizzled all around them, but not on them, and Triumph lights painted the night in red, white, gold, and green, Erick sat upon a bench next to Syllea. They had already been inside the shop and procured the goods. A few other patrons sat in pairs or trios, on other benches, passing between themselves handmade, burning cigarettes.

Syllea held up one of the dozen cigarettes Erick had bought. She lit the end, sucking on the other to draw the flame into the contents. After having the first draw, she passed it to Erick.

He took it, and smiled, saying, “I haven’t done this since before I had Jane.” And then he took a drag.

He coughed, handing off the blunt as he did so.

Syllea smiled. “It’s not the strong stuff.” She took an easy, long drag, then spoke with smoke in her voice, “It shouldn’t do much more than ease the tension in your shoulders.” She passed it back to Erick. “And you came from another world! How did you get blueweed?”

“Ah. Well.” Erick said, “I guess it wasn’t blueweed. At all. Similar drugs, though. Or maybe not?”

He tried taking another drag. This time, it was easier. The effect was almost immediate. It began as a warmth in his back, then spread out to the rest of him. Like dipping into a hot bath. It felt good.

“So what are your plans now?” Syllea asked, as Erick handed her back the blunt.

“Three things are at the top of my list. The first one is to help clear out that Converter Angel.” He would have said more, but then—

Syllea frowned. “That’s a big task.” She took a long drag.

“Yeah. Fortunately, I know what the Converted look like. It’s easy to spot once you know what to look for.” Syllea’s eyes went a bit concerned, but before she could ask, Erick said, “I haven’t seen any in Treehome, yet. Mostly, I’m just waiting for the current holder of the Black Star to spearhead that problem. It doesn’t feel right stepping on the toes of the incani people. I was contracted to help with the Breach Demon, after all.” He tapped the crystal star on his chest, saying, “And you gotta be impartial in this Quiet War business… I guess. Or at least you gotta be fair.”

Syllea gained a measure of composure as Erick said there were no Converted nearby. But she was still worried about that. She asked, “How can you tell if you have a Converted?”

“Here. Let me…” Erick sent her a telepathic package of what he had seen down in the dungeons of the Wasteland. “Like that.”

Syllea went silent for a moment. She handed Erick back the blunt, as she thought.

Erick took a drag, then took another.

Syllea sprouted a few tendrils of telepathic thought; she was obviously talking to someone, and she said as much as she mumbled, “Sorry. That was an unexpected turn of events. I have to shove off some thoughts to others.” She added, “I’m gonna need to teach you how to get [True Sight].”

“I’m not in any rush, but yeah; I’d like to learn [True Sight]. I will take that offer.” Erick glanced around the small area, at the other occupants who were doing a terrible job of not staring directly at Erick, or Syllea. “But we could probably move to a more private area. We can talk about some denser topics, too, if you wish.”

“Yeah… Let’s do that.” Syllea asked, “You two want to come to my place?” She glanced to Bayth, saying, “I think Bayth is all tuckered out, anyway.”

Bayth rolled her eyes.

“I would like that.” Erick looked to Poi, asking, “Sure?”

Poi nodded.

Erick repeated, “Sure.”

Syllea let loose with a few other tendrils of intent, touching each of them, as she said, “Here we go—”

- - - -

The world resolved into a space of warmth and clean smells, with Erick at the center of a living room he had never seen before. Blanket and fur-covered couches arced around a fireplace without a fire, where the floors and walls were made of dark wood, and the ceiling was a skylight where rain drew rivulets across the glass. Beyond the roof, clouds swirled around a tall, dark Arbor, high above, only visible in the night because of countless bright orbs, like stars, scattered among his lofty boughs. All around Erick, Syllea, Bayth, and Poi, hovered a thin, star-filled brightness in the mana of the air; the Domain of the Arbor above.

Erick stared through the skylight, asking, “That’s Wyrmrest, right?”

“Yup! The original, and the largest!” Syllea stepped around the couch, headed towards a kitchen area. “You want more ale?”

He dropped his gaze to his host. “I’m ready to switch to water, actually. Or tea, if you have it.”

Syllea said, “I can do tea.”

Bayth said, “I’m going to head to the other room.”

“You don’t want to stay?” Syllea asked.

Bayth waved her off, and walked away. Poi bowed, then stepped away, following Bayth down a hallway into another part of the house.

Syllea grinned at Erick. “Just you and me, then. Pardon me if I do this the easy way.” With a pulse of intent, she flowed invisible control into the kitchen, pulling out a teapot, mugs, and a few small clay pots. She drew a globe of water from the faucet. With expert control, she joined the items together and heated where necessary. In three moments, she walked back to the couch area, her collection of items floating before her, steaming, as she gestured to a couch, teasing, “You can sit, you know.”

“I was just watching.” Erick sat down upon a fur, atop a comfortable couch, adding, “I couldn’t quite tell what spell that was. But I’m guessing it was just a [Telekinesis] aura?”

Syllea sat down on a couch beside Erick as the tea floated down onto the table between them. “Correct.” The tea steamed, as it steeped. “This Converted problem. How long has the Angel been active? Have they made any aggressive moves aside from the people you showed me?”

Erick glanced at the cigarettes they had bought, sitting on the table. Then he ignored them. “I’m not sure. I haven’t gone too deep into any of that. I have yet to go to Koyabez or— Did you hear about Shadow’s Feast? The full story? I told the Holy O’kabil earlier, and she seemed to imply that she would be telling others.”

“I've heard the story from many angles. I heard it from Wyrmrest, though. I know about Caizoa and the Black Star.” She said, “Asking Koyabez for guidance might be a good place to start, if you want to go down the path of full confrontation. But Converter Angels aren’t as completely violent as Breach Demons, as long as you aren’t their enemy. If you were, then you’d have been the target of assassinations well before now.” She said, “That’s how it usually goes.”

“I’m pretty sure I am their enemy.”

“If you were, they would have come after you by now.”

“Ah. There are many reasons why I believe I haven’t been attacked yet.” Erick smirked, then said, “Its minions are rather hard to miss, once you know what you’re looking for. Once I broke the Feast Barrier, it started moving all of its forces the world over. And then there’s this Silver Star on my chest; it’s a great way to fight against the thing if it should show.

“Taking all of that into account, and the fact that I’m already honor-bound to kill it should it show, I think it’s staying away from me if it can.” He said, “And I’m staying away from it, too, just because I’m not ready to start that war yet. There’s no way there wouldn’t be collateral damage. Maybe it knows this? It’s like how you said: Converter Angels aren’t as ‘raze the countryside’ as Breach Demons. More subterfuge and assassinations than overt war.”

Syllea glanced at the crystal star, saying, “So it’s true. That’s a Greater Artifact of Koyabez. You used that against the remaining Shades. Cursed them into mediocrity.”

“Well… I wouldn’t put it like that.” Erick scrunched his face a little, then said, “Cost me one of my spells to make, but I think it was a good trade off. There’s no way that Melemizargo isn’t going to remake his Clergy at some point in time, so if those Shades form a better base than what came before, then that’s good, right?”

Syllea didn’t look convinced, but she said nothing. She just thought for a moment. Then she poured tea. One for her, and one for Erick. She asked, “Sugar?”

“Sure.”

Two sugar crystals went into Erick’s cup, then Syllea handed it to him. She did the same for her own tea, and took a sip. Erick sipped his, waiting for her to say something else.

Eventually, Syllea said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen, now that Ar’Kendrithyst has been purged. No one does. But the Cult has suddenly become active in Treehome.”

Erick recalled that Syllea’s brother was a member of Melemizargo’s Cult. He almost said something about that, but he chose not to. Instead, he asked, “Anything I should be aware of?”

“Probably.” Syllea frowned at nothing in particular. “They’re putting fliers on walls and openly recruiting. It’s… We’ve had three raids in the last three days. The Arbors are all agitated. Everyone is worried. I’m worried.” She went silent. After a moment, she said, “If the problem isn’t at my door, I’m not willing to get involved in the Quiet War.”

“I hope your troubles clear up soon.”

“Heh.” Syllea said, “You too.”

Erick changed the subject, asking, “Ever heard of the Worldly Path?”

Syllea blinked, startled for a moment, then laughed. “You’re going to do that? Now?”

“I’ve already started,” Erick said, not quite understanding the stress in Syllea’s voice. “Treehome was my first stop. I’ve got a few others lined up, but nothing too solid.”

Without sarcasm, Syllea said, “Good luck with that. I tried to walk the Worldly Path a decade ago.”

“You did?” Erick asked, amazed. He did not expect that when he brought up the topic, but in retrospect, it made perfect sense that another archmage already knew of the Worldly Path, and had tried to walk it.

Syllea asked, “What’s your overarching goal? Do you have one, yet?” With a bit more serious of a tone, she asked, “Is it to kill the Angel?”

“No. The Angel is just a part of it all. Probably, anyway. I’m not sure.” Erick said, “I don’t have a goal except to see the world. I’ll probably get a goal soon enough, somewhere down the path.”

She nodded. “That’s probably the best way to do it.”

“I take it you had a goal?”

“One that ended in failure.” Syllea glanced to the empty fireplace, saying, “I’m going to start the fire.” She pulled at her dress as she got up, adding, “And I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” She waved her hand at the fireplace, conjuring a flame upon the logs already there, as she walked away, saying, “Be right back.”

Erick refilled his tea while he waited, and wondered, his mind going to some rather interesting places as heat began to replace the chilly air of Syllea’s home. Not a minute later, Syllea reappeared wearing what might have been a sweater and sweatpants, both grey, with her long blond hair pulled into a pony-tail and her jewelry gone. All sexy thoughts happily vanished from Erick’s mind, as Syllea retook her spot on her couch, and started speaking.

She said, “The Worldly Path was something I tried much too soon in life. I had a goal before I set out, to gather every Elemental Body, to transform all of them into their Greater variants, and then to make a [Greater Prismatic Body]. There were a hundred other smaller goals, too, for this was back when I was still making new magic every other day, and a keeper at least once a week. But those smaller goals didn’t really matter. It was the larger ones that fucked over everything.

“The problem was [Shadowalk]. I left that one for last. That was my downfall, for the Worldly Path gets harder the further you go.

“I couldn’t get into Ar’Kendrithyst; that was out of the question. By the time I tried the Path, I was already at tier 7 spellwork, and I wasn’t willing to have my final test come at the hands of the Shades. So I tried for the Shadow Canyons of Nergal. I think I told you about them once before?”

“You did.” Erick recalled that conversation, then said, “You also spoke of the Fractured Citadels. You told me about how some of your people were soul-attacked.”

“Yup.” Syllea said, “That’s what ended the Path for me. I had a choice, near the end, of either going alone into the Darkness or pulling back, to keep my friends and family alive. They weren’t about to let me go alone, much to my anger, and I couldn’t… There were a lot of dangerous arguments there, right before the end. I cut my Path short. I ended it, rather than see people I love get hurt.” She offhandedly said, “I gained [Shadowalk] a year later after hiring people to gather shadow essence and craft a masterwork full-body armor. Had to do that twice, actually. I was so damned mad.” She chuckled. “I laugh about it now, but back then... That was maddening. Getting [Greater Shadowalk] was easy, comparatively, but by then The Worldly Path had already vanished for me.”

“Why not eat the shadow monsters for the Elemental Bodies?”

“I did. Mostly. But...” Syllea said, “You have to understand: The Worldly Path is a ritual of Fate and Space; a confluence of Elements that ensures that the Path gets harder and harder as you walk those steps. I wasn’t facing shadowolves by the end, Erick. If only I had been so lucky! But every shadowolf was gone. All that were left were Tyrant Whispers and Fallen Avatars; monsters that were more Ethereal Blood or Vile Darkness, than Shadow.”

Erick somehow felt the shadows of the room draw closer, but when he looked, they had not moved at all.

Syllea kept her eyes on Erick, saying, “I saw them move too, but that’s to be expected.”

“… Melemizargo is always nearby.”

Syllea snorted. “Yeah. But that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

Syllea said, “Even now, you are on the path.” She sighed. “I should have known. The first time you came out of Spur to see the world, and it’s on the Worldly Path. Now I’m swept up in it, too.”

Erick almost panicked. “Did I do something to you?”

“Yes, but no. Don’t worry about me, especially since you’re this close to the start of your journey.” Syllea dispelled none of Erick’s worry by saying, “I met my own mentor when I started the Path. It’s a grand ritual, after all. Part of that ritual is the initial guidance. My own mentor told me some things, and hinted at others, but the Path I walked was my own, as your Path will be for you. If this ends well for you, one day, you might find yourself suddenly mentoring someone else who has chosen to walk the Worldly Path.” Syllea asked, “I know you said you have no plan, but do you have any idea at all about what your Path is about?”

Erick hung his head for a moment. Of course the Worldly Path wasn’t just a simple trip around the world, hitting the highlights and seeing the big sights the world over. Of course it was a ritual. Now that Syllea had said it, that made perfect sense.

Erick asked, “How much of the ritual is under Melemizargo’s control?”

“I’ve heard it’s just the bit at the end. The part after you succeed. A closing statement, if you will.”

Erick took a moment to digest all of that, then, knowing he was part of a ritual, no matter how weak that ritual was right now, he said, “My plan is to see where the wind takes me. To see the Core, and a few other places. To see what Veird is like, the world and Underworld over. I’m also looking into trade routes for Candlepoint; to search out products for them to make without making targets of themselves. I’m also raising Yggdrasil. To do all this and not get bogged down by everyone who knows me, or knows what I can do, I’m brainstorming magic that makes me more anonymous, or that let’s me fight without giving away my identity to onlookers. I’m also looking for a way to subjugate a target without actually killing them. There’s also this Quest Board Class Ability that I just got. I’m going to use that to clip out some of the larger dangers the world over and get rewards for them, while I can.” Erick said, “But as for actual plans? Nothing too concrete— OH. And then there’s the previous [Gate] network, out there in the Forest. I was gonna go after that somewhere in my various travels. Sooner, rather than later… And of course… I have to kill the Converter Angel.”

Syllea smiled softly as Erick spoke. When he was done, she said, “You should stay in Treehome for a little while. I can help you with much of the magic you’re looking for, and the Arbors are eager to speak to Yggdrasil, and you.” She chided, “I’ve been waiting all night for you to tell me that you made a fricken WORLD TREE!” She laughed.

“Ah.” Erick frowned a little.

Syllea asked, “Ah?”

“I hope I live to see him become a real being.”

Syllea rolled her eyes, not believing Erick’s sudden confession. “You’ll be fine! Probably. About as much as any of us, I’m sure.”

“It won’t be four months till he’s real.” Erick said, “It’ll be a hundred years. He has a seal on him.”

Syllea sat a bit straighter. “Oh.”

The fire crackled, sending a spray of sparks up the chimney.

“That’s probably fine, then?” Syllea said, “I have no idea.”

Erick shrugged.

She said, “Anyway: The Arbors have told me that they want to make sure you raise him right. They expected several months of intense work, but now… Now they have time? Sure. They have time. You have time. And in your immediate time, I’m going to help you make some magic that subdues, rather than harms. What you’re looking for is Elemental Mercy.” She added, “We can go out into the Forest and search out some of those [Gate]s, too. I may not be able to cast the spell myself, but I’d like to be involved in remaking the [Gate] network.”

Erick grinned. “Of course! That sounds like a great plan, to me.” He stood up, saying, “But I should get going. See you tomorrow?”

“Wait wait wait. Before you go… I would like to talk about your Quest Board.”

Erick glanced to the hallway where Poi had gone, and saw Poi standing there, waiting. He turned back to Syllea, asking, “What about it?”

“Head Priests of the Interfaith Church usually get an Interfaith Quest Board, full of needs populated by the Relevant Entities of the Script, but those who have personal Quest Boards always have the truly dangerous Quests, the ones that the Entities reserve for those specific people with that Class Ability.” Syllea said, “You might want to think twice about accepting any Quests while you’re on your Worldly Path, or while that Angel still roams the world. Fate, Space, and Ritual will contort reality around you. Some things that should not happen, will happen. Impossibilities become sure-things.”

“Ah. Yeah. I sorta figured it would be like that… But thanks for the warning.”

With a bit of magic, Syllea picked up the cigarettes they had bought and floated them toward Erick. “Don’t forget these. Take a break while you can.”

Erick smirked as he took the drugs. “Thanks, Syllea. I had a great time tonight. Thanks for the invite.”

“Thanks for coming, both to dinner, and to Treehome. We’ll do it again sometime, and also talk more tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay.” Erick reached a tendril of light toward Poi, who accepted the touch on his shoulder. He said to Syllea, “See you later,” and vanished in a puff of light.

- - - -

“A hundred years?” Syllea looked up, through the skylight, at Wyrmrest. “Did you know that?”

‘We will not let Sininindi raise a World Tree.’ Wyrmrest said, ‘We will just have to break Yggdrasil’s seal.’

Syllea refilled her cup of tea, and thought.

- - - -

Erick and Poi reappeared in the living room of their hotel room, under the boughs of the Holy O’kabil.

Poi stepped away, headed toward his room, before suddenly turning around, and asking, “Good night, sir?”

Erick smirked. “Yeah. I guess I should just go back to bed.”

“Oh thank the gods. I was worried for a moment. Please don’t leave the suite without me, sir.” With a slight sarcasm in his voice, Poi said, “Let’s change our fate tomorrow, please.”

Jane stepped out of her room, rubbing her eyes. “You’re back. How’d it go?”

“It was great! You should have been there! Lots of strange foods.”

Jane winced. “You’re too awake for this late at night.” She said, “Glad you made it back. I’m back to bed.”

Erick watched her go, then he watched the door shut. Then he was alone.

But… Not really.

The manasphere was dense with his own [Prismatic Ward], but it was also thick with mist. And that was worrying. He had never considered that someone might lay down a Domain that allowed them to freely enter his [Prismatic Ward]. But then again, there was that artifact in Quilatalap’s presentation, the Amulet of Non-Presence, that allowed a person to walk through all magical defenses as though they weren’t even there. Had the Holy O’kabil done something like that? Despite her apparently physical form when she entered his [Prismatic Ward] without permission, she was just a soul and the shape of a body, wasn’t she? There was no blood in that form. There was no actual physicality. Erick had checked with a few different sights through his few nearby Ophiel.

But he could have been wrong.

… Even if she wasn’t totally real, she should have been blocked, right?

Ah. Her Domain was here first.

Ophiel twittered on Erick’s shoulder, and also on the top of a nearby chair. Only two of him were following Erick around right now. The rest were on never-ending patrol over Candlepoint, or at his home, prepared for a sudden explosion of monsters from Ar’Kendrithyst’s dying corpse.

And that was fine. If needed, they could all be here in under ten seconds.

Erick patted the little guy on his shoulder, eliciting a violin coo.

Then he looked to the blunts he had set down on the table. He grabbed two, then looked around for a moment, trying to find— Ah! There it was. Right where it had been the last time Erick had seen it. A balcony, just beyond some doors near the kitchen. He forgave himself for losing track of it; he had cast Ophiel’s [Prismatic Ward] out there, after all. Whatever. He was still slightly drunk, and looking to get a bit more wasted.

Erick lightstepped onto the porch. Ophiel followed.

A slight wind blew from the northeast; chilly, but easily withstood since the rain seemed to be over. Erick lit a cigarette, took an easy drag, and relished the feeling of warmth spreading across his shoulders and through his body, as he gazed out upon the early morning lights of Treehome. The land near the Holy O’kabil truly did resemble silver spikes of crystal. It reminded Erick a little bit of the Brightwater, but much more metallic, so maybe not like the Brightwater at all. Here, there were normal people, going about their lives, doing what they need to do to survive. But in that dark, bright place, there was only death, and the evil of a terrible, pitiable society, doing what they could do to tear everything down, because their parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts, all did the same.

And then there were the Shades that Erick had let go!

Argh!

He pulled up a few Quests, just to stare at them again.

--

Find or Kill Queen, Shade of Opulence.

Find: 0/1

Kill: 0/1

Reward: 10 points

Note: Half reward for a location that leads to a kill.

Posters: Rozeta, Goddess of the Script; Headmaster Kirginatharp; Demon King Dinnamoth; 15 lesser posters.

--

Find or Kill Treant, Shade of the Forest.

Find: 0/1

Kill: 0/1

Reward: 10 points

Note: Half reward for a location that leads to a kill.

Posters: Rozeta, Goddess of the Script; Aloethag, Goddess of Beauty and Brutality; Fangorl, God of the Wild; 27 lesser posters.

--

Find or Kill Lapis, Shade of Enchantment.

Find: 0/1

Kill: 0/1

Reward: 10 points

Note: Half reward for a location that leads to a kill.

Posters: Rozeta, Goddess of the Script; Headmaster Kirginatharp; Kiral, God of Commerce; Crown of the Host Adavido; 7 lesser posters.

--

Erick flipped through the rest of them; all of the Shades he had spared were on the list, each of them hunted by dozens of individual Entities of the Script. He stopped flipping when he came to Fallopolis.

--

Find or Kill Fallopolis, Shade of Melemizargo.

Find: 0/1

Kill: 0/1

Reward: 10 points

Note: Half reward for a location that leads to a kill.

Posters: Rozeta, Goddess of the Script; Crown of the Host Adavido; Demon King Dinnamoth, 107 lesser posters.

--

“Haaaa,” Erick groaned. “The only one that both the Angels and the Demons both agree needs to die.” He took another drag of the cigarette, then mumbled, “One hundred and ten Entities of the Script want to kill the only one I didn’t personally Bless into being a better person.”

Shit. I think I fucked up.

Erick finished off the first cigarette, trying to think about nothing in particular, while blue screens hovered around him, and he felt both warm, and utter cold at the same time. He lit up the next blueweed blunt, and continued to poke through other screens of the Quest Board, trying to get a feel for it.

The Quest Board was a rather intuitive system. There were search functions, but they were not as good as other search functions Erick had used in his previous life on Earth. The Quest Board seemed to share the Script’s overall poorly implemented ‘Help’ function, that Erick barely ever used, anyway.

In the Open Script, if you didn’t know the Basic Spell or Skill that you were searching for, then you couldn’t search for it, and thus you couldn’t purchase it for a point. In the Quest Board, you could search by region, poster, reward, or target, but all you got were lists and vague descriptions and no maps. He also had to think at the Script to get it to work, and that was a bit wonky. It might have been better than a keyboard, but maybe not? Erick tried to think/demand for a keyboard, but that functionality was missing. The lack of maps was a pain in the ass, too. No matter how much he reorganized his searches, he gained no map. It was only halfway through his second blunt that he wondered why he wanted a map, anyway. He had a map. [Cascade Imaging] worked fine for his mapping needs.

All the Quests he saw were for some target, somewhere in the world…

Ah. No. That wasn’t true.

Erick glanced up at the artery-like boughs of the Holy O’kabil and her expansive, dark canopy, more than half a kilometer above him. He returned to the Quest in front of him. It wasn’t a kill quest, and that was nice to see.

--

Expand Treehome.

Establish a new and welcomed Arbor into the land of Treehome. 0/1

Reward: 5 points, along with unknowable amounts of prestige and political power in Treehome.

Note: This is a Special Quest, with many failing factors, most of which arise organically in the pursuit of this goal. The Posters of this Quest reserve the right to destroy a bad Arbor without warning.

Lesser Posters: The Arbors of Treehome; Wyrmrest, O’kabil, Firebrand, Icebrand, Rottundra, Heral-ken, Home, Nosier, Leaf-cutter, Redarrow, Steel Branch, Ikabobbi. The collective tribes of Treehome.

--

That all read rather well; even that warning. Did this mean that they were willing to help him raise an Arbor? Could they help raise Yggdrasil?

Erick thought to all he had seen on his first day in Treehome.

Treehome was a nice place. The people were happy. They worked hard, and they played hard. There was good food, and good opportunity either in pushing back the Forest, or getting a merchant job in the city itself, or some other job. Waiters made good money. Butchers made good money. There were no homeless on the streets, which was either fantastic, or horrific, but right now, Erick was leaning toward the first scenario.

With his Ophiels sometimes flying above while he walked below, Erick had seen farms and such all over the place, beyond the larger buildings that surrounded and demarcated each Arbor’s territory. Erick could have been a farmer here, easily. If he had been born an orcol on Veird, he would have been lucky to have been born into one of the collective Wyrmrest tribes. He would have been lucky to live in Treehome.

… But he wasn’t ready to commit to this ‘Expand Treehome’ Quest.

And yet…

Erick spoke to the mist in the mana all around him, “Is it actually ‘Holy’ O’kabil? Or is that an affectation?”

From one blink to the next, O’kabil appeared on the balcony just two meters from Erick, wearing the same fur coat as before. She eyed Erick, then turned toward the north, saying, “It’s not often someone is willing to risk my ire by asking such a cheeky question.”

“Apologies for the terrible question.” He held out the remaining half of the blunt he had been smoking. “Care for a drag?”

“No.”

Erick nodded, then took another drag of the blueweed. O’Kabil stood at the edge of the balcony, not moving, and not speaking. Erick didn’t interrupt her thoughts with any more words.

She said, “I’ve reviewed your trip into Ar’Kendrithyst. You failed to put down the monsters. You let Treant live. You enabled his survival. He’s at our borders right now, pleading for understanding.”

Erick’s eyes went wide. He coughed a little, but regained himself quick enough. He waited for her to say more.

Eventually, O’kabil continued, “He’s been there for two days, now. It sickens me. And yet… And yet, I cannot put too much effort into killing that ooze, myself. Much like how you used the Shades to kill the Shades, we are using him to clear out the larger dangers out there. He thinks he will attain forgiveness for this.” She went silent.

Erick breathed out blue smoke that carried away on the air.

O’kabil held out her hand toward Erick; her thumb and forefinger waited for him to place something there. He handed her the remains of his blunt. It was almost gone. He’d need to get another one. So he did; grabbing one off of the table inside with a quick tendril of light. O’kabil, meanwhile, put Erick’s blunt to her lips and breathed in for twenty seconds, fully burning and inhaling all that was left of his second blunt. Erick lit a third, puffed on it a bit to get it started, then handed it to O’kabil, for she had her hand held out again, waiting for a refill.

She inhaled again, fully burning the third to nothing but ash over the course of forty seconds. She opened her mouth, and breathed out a small cloudbank. Blue fog swirled up and around the outside of the penthouse suite. Erick briefly considered getting a fourth blunt, but the three-meter tall orcol representation of the kilometer-tall tree above did not seem to want another, and Erick was done, anyway.

O’kabil said, “Treant will never attain forgiveness for his crimes.”

“What were they? His crimes, I mean.”

“He tried to raze us to the ground five times in the last two hundred years. Over those campaigns, he has killed at least one hundred thousand people.” She looked to Erick, then looked away, saying, “It is frustrating that you forgave him—”

With a hard voice, Erick said, “I have done no such thing.”

O’kabil went still.

Erick said, “I can never forgive him for his crimes. Only you or anyone else he has wronged will ever be able to forgive him. All I did was force him to feel the pain he has inflicted upon others.”

For a moment, no one spoke.

O’kabil stared out toward the north. “A better wording than my own.” She said, “It is for this reason that I cannot kill him. He suffers more as a living Shade than he would as a dead one. Every time he goes out and kills another wyrm nest, or a Twisted Vision of the Forest, or any of the other greater threats to our people… Every time he comes back, he shows us what he has done. He pleads for forgiveness.” For the first time since Erick met her, O’kabil smiled. It was not a nice look. “I like it when he pleads, and even more when I deny him and he turns into a puddle of a man, weeping like a broken child. He deserves this, and so much more.” She banished the smile from her face. “But I would like it more if he were not here. I do not like this part of me that revels in his pain.” She turned and stared at Erick. “I would have liked to know that he was dead. I would have preferred him in the ground, or turned to ash, or any other number of deaths.” She asked, “Are you more vicious than I am? Or are you weak, and unable to kill who needs to be killed? Or perhaps, do you truly think that no Evil is beyond redemption? That this pain you have inflicted upon a terrible enemy is somehow going to end in something other than tragedy? That perhaps, this will end in something good for us all?”

“He will suffer in his own way for what he has done, and if one day, his charitable deeds outweigh his horrors, then that will be good. But it's not up to me if it will be enough.” Erick asked, “Would you prefer to have no recompense?”

O’kabil looked away.

Then she vanished, from one blink to the next, and Erick was left out in the chilly wind. He glanced up, beyond the boughs of the Arbor above. Clouds gathered, in the normal ways that clouds did sometimes, but no doubt spurred on by Erick’s control of the weather, earlier.

Erick went inside before it started to rain again.