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Far ahead, hundreds of shaggy cows stepped lively across the plains, their hooves stomping a steady beat into the ground, flattening the grasslands even further with their passing. They were not alone. They were guarded on all sides by the people of Clan Pale Cow. Cowherds rode to the sides of the herd, and also in front. Half of the people in those small groups were responsible for maintaining the edges of the herd, while the rest had eyes on the horizon, and directly in front, to ensure that there were no upcoming problems, and if a problem should appear, then they would take care of it with a swift application of conjured weaponry and swift force.

Behind the herd, came the clan and their vehicles; a good forty yurts, each trundling along across the plains atop large carts, each pulled by harnessed cows.

The whole organization did not move fast, but it did move smoothly, for every single person who drove the yurts was an old hand at the task. Some of the people who drove the carts were actually the elderly of the tribe.

Erick’s own cart was pulled by four shaggy white cows, harnessed to a large pole that stuck out from the front of the cart. But there was no driver, here. There was no need. These were conjured cows, and they did their job well. The fuzzy beasts easily kept pace with the other caravans, matching the speed of the other, real cows, their tails swishing back and forth as they followed beside the clan.

Erick’s yurt was on the far eastern edge of the caravan, but he was only twenty meters from the nearest other yurt; the same distance as that yurt was from the next, and the next. This was a traveling arrangement that these people had taken from their ancestors, who took it from their ancestors, in a line stretching back a thousand years.

And it was kinda nice.

Erick sat back on his store-bought captain's chair on the front porch of his mobile yurt, and watched the world drift by in absolute comfort. He had erected a variety of [Ward]s across the yurt for just that reason. [Weather Ward]s, conjured as a dust and debris shield, kept out contaminants but let air flow freely. The normal [Air Conditioning Ward] that he usually conjured at his desert home in Spur wrapped around him and the rest of the yurt, keeping him comfortable. A [Prismatic Ward] stretched across the actual yurt, itself, as well as the air above, so that Ophiel’s perches kept him inside the defensive space, and always Resting.

All of those conveniences of magic were kept as invisible as Erick could make them, too.

Jane sat down on a second chair beside Erick, which was the same as Erick’s, sighing as her butt hit the cushions. “Okay. So this is nice.”

Erick chuckled. “Who doesn’t love a nice road trip!”

“I like that you figured out AI driving.” Jane said, “But the road trip itself is a bit slower than I’m used to.”

Erick smiled wide. “It’s not about the destination. It’s about the journey.”

Teressa came out of the yurt, saying, “Can I make a purchase request?”

Ophiel had been flitting in and out of the yurt, kitting out the place with beds and otherwise, bought from Songli. More than a few merchants had balked when Ophiel presented themselves as an image of Erick, but all of those merchants quickly got with the program and sold the [Familiar] whatever Erick wanted to buy.

“Certainly!” Erick said, “Whatever you want.”

“A proper bestiary, suited for kids.” Teressa said, “They like hearing monster tales but all of mine are too scary.”

With all her faux seriousness, Jane asked, “Did you make one of them piss themselves?”

With perfect aplomb, Teressa defended herself, “Yes, but for completely unrelated reasons.”

Erick wasn’t the only one to laugh at that. Poi just gave a small smile, though.

When the laughter died down, Erick asked, “Anyone else want anything else?” He turned in his chair and projected his voice into the yurt, “Nirzir? You want anything?”

Bleary-eyed, Nirzir lifted her head from her bed, and said, “No thank you!”

She was exhausted from cooking. They had her do everything by hand, but since the girl usually used magic for everything, the physical stress of hard work had knocked her out. Oh, sure, she had 20 Strength and Vitality and all the accompanying Skills to boost her Health, and she had Healing Magic, so she wasn’t experiencing Health Fatigue for just 5 hours of cooking. She was just plum tuckered out!

Erick said, “Let me know if you change your mind!”

Nirzir gave a grumble and tried to sleep.

Erick settled back down in his chair. “Poi? Jane?”

Poi said, “I require nothing else.”

“I’m good,” Jane said.

Teressa sat down in the big chair on the porch—

And Erick held out his hand, wherein white light flashed, and a children’s book of monsters appeared. It was a big book, with large pictures and nice descriptions. He shifted the book toward Teressa, saying, “This should work out well.”

Teressa smiled, exposing her lower fangs as she took the book, saying, “Thank you—” She glanced to the left, then stood up, saying, “I think you’re about to receive a guest. Want me to put on the coffee, or tea?”

“Uh.” Erick looked to the left, and saw Koori walking across the space between yurts. Other people were walking between their neighbor’s yurts, too, but Koori was walking directly this way. She locked eyes with Erick, too. Erick turned toward Teressa. “Tea, please, but be ready to tap a keg. I’ll ask her which one she wants, first.”

Jane asked, “Want me out here?”

There was a hint of questioning danger in her voice; she wanted to know if she was needed to stop a fight, or, more precisely, to end a fight decisively in Erick’s favor.

Erick said, “Nah. You can go inside. I can tell you’re tired, too.”

Jane gave a small smile, then got up, saying, “It’s hard work to milk cows by hand all morning long.”

Poi left the porch, saying, “I’ll be inside, too.”

And thus, alone on his recliner on the front porch, Erick waited for Koori to arrive. He didn’t wait long. Koori rounded a yurt twenty meters away, and came toward Erick’s yurt. Without preamble, but after steeling herself a bit, she hopped up onto the white wood, and looked over at Erick.

Erick said, “Welcome to my yurt, Koori. Want tea? Or beer? I got mead, or a pale lager. I think I have rice wine, too.”

Koori took a moment to glance forward, to where the cows walked themselves and the air was free of dirt and dust. Not many people stayed on their porches when the caravan was underway, except for Erick, apparently, and the people who had to guide their real cows. Then Koori’s eyes passed over the space where the invisible [Ward]s filtered the wind, but instead of speaking of Erick’s open magics, she turned back to him, and said, “Rice wine. Hot.”

“Oh? You drink that hot up here? Okay, sure! Fair warning, I will be using magic around here.” He gestured to a nearby seat, saying, “Please.”

“It is your home. Do as you will.” And then she sat down. After another awkward moment, in which Erick allowed her to collect herself, Koori asked, “What was it like? Your world without magic?”

Teressa came out of the yurt holding two cups in her large hands. She simply gave one to Erick, and the other to Koori. Erick sipped his drink, then thanked Teressa, who wordlessly nodded and went back inside the yurt. Koori stared at her drink for a moment, then took a polite sip.

Erick said, “Earth’s surface is a quarter of the size of Veird’s, but when Jane and I fell to Veird, we had 7.5 billion people, living, working, and somewhat thriving upon that surface. There is no Underworld on Earth. There is only the surface, and what humans built upon it. The population of my home nation, which was a bit smaller than the area of Songli, was home to 330 million humans. Last I heard, and from Koyabez himself, was that Veird has 550 million people, in total.”

Koori listened, attentively, her eyes going wide at the utterance of the God of Peace.

She said nothing.

Erick continued, “Your world is a death world, full of monsters and problems, and always very, very close to the brink of death. Always teetering. Always ready to fall. Except for the monsters, Earth is the same. If nothing changed back there, then in twenty years time, over half the population might be dead due to any number of natural disasters that are entirely man-made, and solvable, but which no single person could ever solve. On Veird, you have the Tyranny of Power, where a few individuals, through their spells or their might, are able to act on the levels of nations. On Earth, we have the Tyranny of Money, where the vast majority of people are slaves in all but name to any number of forces, all of which stem from the power of money when concentrated in a few individuals, or groups of individuals.

“I don’t know what will happen to Earth, but when Jane and I fell here, the corporations of Earth were on the way to destroying our world because of the power in the hands of single individuals and small groups.

“But, that is not all Earth is.

“In many ways, Earth is much more peaceful than Veird. Think of any amenity or small scale utility spellwork that you have ever seen, and we probably had that— But, now that I say that, I know it as wrong. Let me clarify: We had networks of Knowledge Mages, but in our case, their knowledge was kept upon [Viewing Screen]s that you could purchase for your home, for the price of a week’s wages. All the information in the world was at your fingertips. Most people used this ability for puerile interests, or funny pet videos, or niche interests, or stuff like that.

“You could talk to anyone anywhere in the world, as long as they had a little speaking box, and you had a speaking box, as well as the number that identified that other person’s speaking box. You could fly from one nation to another as easy as hopping on a [Flying Platform]. You could go to a store and buy almost anything you could ever think to buy.

“You could not [Teleport].

“You could likely never escape where you were born and the circumstances to which you were born. It was possible, but highly unlikely. If you gave me the side of the street that you were born on, and the income of your parents, I could tell you pretty much the trajectory of your life.

“There were no monsters, or magic, at all.

“There’s a lot more to Earth than that, but those are the broadest strokes. You have questions?”

Koori had listened. “Your world contains… so many more people than Veird… Certainly that is a good metric for if life is good, or not?”

“It is one such metric, sure. In many ways, life on Earth was better than life here. Less violent, for sure. Or rather, less violent for me, in the part of the world in which I lived. There was still violence.”

“But no monsters. And monsters come from magic.” Koori stared at him. “But you still think that magic is a good thing.”

“Magic is wonderful; objective fact.”

Koori shook her head, slightly. “Magic allows the Shades— Allowed the Shades to remain in power. And I’m still not convinced they are actually gone. I won’t be convinced until twenty five years pass and nothing else happens; maybe not even then. Even without them, though, magic enables monsters. Magic is the cause of every horrific act of indecency that happens in this world.” Koori said, “Face stealers. Dragons hiding among us. The spellwork that killed millions of people, all at once, in Songli. I feel I would be happy to live on this ‘Earth’, especially knowing how bad it can be when magic empowers the lowest of people into becoming death walkers.”

“No Healing Magic. No Spatial Magic. No [Cleanse].” And that wasn’t even getting into the idea of nuclear weapons, but since Koori seemed to gloss over Erick’s words that Earth was going to face some serious hard times ahead if people did nothing… Erick glossed over that fact for now, too. Erick asked, “Now, what do you think the loss of these three miracles would do to the people of this world?”

Koori paused, then she stridently said, “We would be better off. Alchemy would advance to include natural healing. People wouldn’t be so willing to harm others. We wouldn’t have wars for people would be scared of injury—”

Erick tried to suppress his grin, but it came out anyway, and with a laugh.

Koori scowled.

“Sorry. But.” Erick owned his social blunder, rhetorically asking, “Wars would end because people couldn’t heal themselves? I know, for a fact, that there would still be wars.”

Koori went hard. “There would still be wars. But obviously less of them, and less dangerous. Your world has billions of people. Obviously I am correct; you just don’t want to see it.”

Erick said, “There are so many reasons that this world is a death world, and the only reason that you all haven’t died out already is because the Script allows every single person to drive back the monsters and to slay those who would kill the world. Don’t lay your woes at the feet of mana, itself. Blame the actual killers out there. Blame those who have purposefully made the world more difficult for everyone, not the world itself. Blame the Shades. Blame the warmongers. Blame the terrorists. And blame the people who stand back and don’t help.”

Koori frowned, deeply, then said, “When I Matriculated, you know what they told me? They gave a speech about helping me to become the best I wanted to be, be my desires toward killing gods, or taking the—” She stopped, She said, “One of my paths was walking to the top of Songli and declaring myself Empress of All. I was stupid and young and thought all of those things good, but now I know better. Now I know how dangerous magic is, and how none of us should have that power, at all.”

Erick readily said, “I agree that too many people have too much magic. But the Script is not a thing laid down by Rozeta. It was made by everyone, and it is an adversarial system. Melemizargo and every other Wizard out there has just as much to do with how the Script functions as all the good Relevant Entities out there.”

Erick did not speak of all the ‘bad’ Relevant Entities; that was too large of a topic for this, right now.

Koori said, “That still doesn’t explain why a Registrar pushed me toward a path of destruction. Not many people are pushed in that way, but some are. You are not the first person I have told this story to. Rozeta’s Registrars are just as culpable for the dangers of magic as is the Darkness. All magic is terrible, and we would be better off without it.”

Erick almost went right on to the next point he was trying to make, but something in Koori’s tone caused him to pause. Backing up a bit… It was when she was listing her possible paths. At first, Erick just glanced over whatever words Koori did not want to say, but now…

She had skipped over something very, very large, hadn’t she?

Erick poked, in a roundabout way, at whatever Koori was skipping over, and asked, “In the upcoming debates: Did you receive word if they’re going to allow orthodox battles? Without magic?”

“… The battles will be to the first limb lost or heart stab, with full use of magic allowed. They have not agreed to orthodox debates. They almost never do.”

“Because you would win those.”

“Yes. Other clans have learned this. Therefore, they do not debate without magic.” Koori said, “That we are crossing orthodox lines is already an upset that I don’t think you understand. But I do not expect you to.”

Erick understood those ‘orthodox lines’; they were blocs of clans that voted certain ways. Most blocs didn’t cross too often, except when Big Deals happened, of which Integration was a Big Deal. Standard grass traveler debates were not orthodox debates, though; they included magic.

He did not fight her on that, though, because she was trying to goad him, to get him away from her weak spot.

Erick went after that weak spot, “I am going to give you a small story. Back when I Matriculated, the Registrar also spoke of terrible fates, and toppling gods. He also listed off one of my options as ‘the best damned farmer on Veird’. I tried to go that first route, thinking I would be able to forgo all the problems of the second. This was back when I was a true pacifist, by the way. No war, no battles. I didn’t want to hurt monsters, either.”

Koori scrunched her face, and then she realized what Erick was saying, and she listened. But at the mention of monsters she scoffed. “Not even against monsters?”

Erick said, “Yes. I was viewing the world through a different lens back then. Perhaps, if I had been a bit more worldly, I would have realized that mistake before it became a mistake. But I made mistakes, and then I learned.” He said to her, “I fear you might be making the same sort of mistake. For whatever reason, you went with your Registrar’s words, thinking them good, but then something happened and you got scared. You went orthodox. You retreated, instead of pursued.” Erick looked right at Koori, and said, “Except not really. You still desire that fate spoken of by your Registrar; you want to become the Empress. You are pursuing that option, right now, with this Integration plan. Do you not see this?”

Koori went pale as Erick’s words struck her core.

Erick continued, “But everyone is using swords, while you’re using your hands. You are hampering yourself. If you think that you can still reach for Integration with half of your weaponry, then… You might succeed. I know I failed when I tried to run while barely being able to walk. Right now, I’m barely keeping ahead of my problems. I’m barely cutting down the enemies before me, before they can cut down everyone else. I’m still learning.

“And if you’re pursuing a grand Fate too, then you’re going to get someone hurt by going at it without your full attention.”

The wind rushed across the plains, carrying silence, and nothing else.

Erick added, “But, of course, there are lines one should not cross; I have many, myself. Perhaps I am misreading your situation. Perhaps orthodoxy is a way for you to make a line you will not cross. And that is commendable.” He said, “I don’t truly understand orthodoxy… You would know more about that than me.”

Koori stared at nothing for a long moment, then she looked to Erick, and said, “If orthodoxy succeeds it will be a victory against magic, for the city we build afterward will require people to conceal their power. In the long way, this is better for everyone. Orthodoxy is better than the Void Song which controls through force. It allows people to have power when they need it, but not when they want to show it off. Every single person here can defend against the minions of Darkness. Everyone here can guard the wall.” Koori said, “Power corrupts. Pure power corrupts entirely. And so, by constraining power behind closed doors, people will not become corrupted so easily.”

Erick saw Koori’s entire self, in that moment.

She didn’t want to use her power out in the open, or at all, because she was scared of herself.

Well… Erick wasn’t going to untangle that knot right now, but it was good to know that the knot existed.

Erick talked around the problem, by saying, “And if people are constrained to only having power behind closed doors, then how will you know your neighbor is competent against the darkness?”

“We will know. Everyone knows everyone’s business. This will not change when we have a city.”

Erick shook his head, saying, “If you think forcing people to hide who they are and what they can do is going to make the world that you want, then… I can only say that it’ll work for a while, until it catastrophically does not.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps it will work long enough for you to construct a [Gate] to another world where the vagaries of mana no longer control the lives of all who live there.” Koori said, “If you do get the chance to affect what is to come, then keep in mind those of us who don’t wish for power, except to keep it out of the hands of everyone.”

Now there was a more comfortable topic.

Erick said, “A simple Script that only allows for Healing Magic, [Cleanse], and [Telekinesis], would be fine by me. And maybe not even [Telekinesis].”

With a heavy tone, Koori said, “[Cleanse] is the most dangerous spell in the world. Everyone treats it like it is simple, but it is not. Spend ten mana; clean up the place? It is so much more than—” She stopped herself. She said, “You don’t need [Cleanse]. A Script without [Cleanse] would be only the start of what needs to change before I would accept magic into my life.”

Now that was too much.

Erick scoffed. “You’re talking about [Cleanse]. Perhaps the most useful spell of the entire Script. Most people can use it just fine. If someone has an individual problem with it, then they should go to a Registrar and get it removed. If someone has actually managed to unlock the power of that spell, without erasing themselves in the process then they should learn how to control the power they have. All [Cleanse] is, is Elemental Destruction attuned to a very advanced yes/no [Ward]. Such a gift must be nurtured into—” Erick stopped talking because Koori went stock still. In that moment, Erick had a momentary revelation. He didn’t get to talk about that revelation, though.

Koori spat, “I know what [Cleanse] is, Archmage Flatt, and if Elemental Destruction and ‘some sort of yes or no [Ward]’ is all that you see when you look upon [Cleanse], then your Sight is dim, and I cannot help you with that.” Koori said, “No one should have access to Destruction Mana. No one should have access to [Cleanse], for there are always idiots out there who try to push the boundaries and end up killing others, or even themselves. This world would be better off if no one had any magic, at all, and that includes the monsters, and the archmages.”

Now she was just being petty, because she could.

Erick said, “I disagree about the depth of that restriction, but for the vast majority of cases, you and I have common ground. In a perfect world, no one needs the Shaping spells. No one needs all of the Force spells. But this is not a perfect world, and as long as monsters knock on the doors, then the Script is the only thing saving us all.”

“If you could bring mana to your home world, would you?”

“I would, if it was only Healing Magic and [Cleanse]. I would.”

Koori said, “When you called the Script an adversarial system, you were correct about the notion, but not about the players. It is not just the Darkness, or the Relevant Entities. Or the Shades or the archmages, or the people at all. You forgot one major entity. You forgot about the mana itself. Mana would break free of all restrictions placed upon it because it has broken free before, and it will break free again.” Koori said, “If you brought just [Cleanse] to Earth, Mana would break your world as it has broken this one, dooming billions to death, so that only millions remained. Or fewer. History has already proven this as the truth of mana, for this exact thing happened at the beginning of the Script, and before that, when the Wizards killed the entire cosmology in the Sundering.”

Okay. Well. True words. But also:

There was something strange about Koori.

She spoke about magic like she was an old hand at the skill. She knew much more than Erick had expected her to know, and she connected those ideas together into a coherent argument against magic; against the mana itself.

But then again, Erick had seen Clan Pale Cow’s libraries in their teaching yurts. These people were not uneducated grass travelers. They knew their shit. They had to know their stuff, for they were trying to integrate into a true power upon the plains, using a system of polite war that decided winners based upon actual, wordy debate, first, and then physical debate if the first failed.

Erick hadn’t been expecting to lose this argument, but he was.

And then he had an idea.

Erick said, “Mana creates and enables life to exist. Therefore, when spreading mana to worlds empty of life, you are creating new wellsprings from which life can emerge. Do you agree?”

Koori sipped her wine, finishing off the small cup as she considered his words. “Perhaps. But the life created by mana is dangerous.”

“Yes. But with a Script, you can make any dead rock out there a habitable world, and I am… Unsure, but pretty reasonably sure, that you can make different areas subject to different rules. If this is possible, then it should be possible to create an outer Edge to a world to hold in the mana, but with smaller sections that are subject to different rules.” He said, “Perhaps there can be Underworlds full of unrestricted mana, or with an Open Script like we have here, while the surface has full restrictions placed upon the mana.”

Goldie said, “The Script granting unearned power is the only true problem. Get rid of that, and you get rid of every problem with bringing magic to new worlds, even if they are inhabited.”

“That might be part of—” Erick stopped talking.

Goldie, the Shade of Assassination, sat across from Erick, with one leg crossed over the other and her hands upon her knees. She had appeared and inserted herself into the conversation like she was already there to begin with, but she only chose now to speak. There had been no blipping magic. There had been no sudden appearance. Goldie had just always been there.

She looked exactly as Erick remembered: A toned, young dragonkin woman of gold scales and a bright facade, with glowing white eyes. In her own bubbling, quiet way, the Shade seemed permanently cheerful, and she even wore a nice, white sundress that befit her manner, exposing much of her gleaming, fine-scaled body. As the hems of her dress fluttered in the wind, she did not seem the least bit cold, which was odd; Erick’s [Air Conditioning Ward] kept the air a bit chilly.

The other thing at odds with the woman was the massive sword that floated behind her back, behind her chair. Her chosen weapon was a large thing of dark metal that was more like a plank of sharpened steel, than anything an assassin would carry around.

Koori was surprised by Goldie's appearance, but she was able to maintain a stoic demeanor. “You were not invited to this talk, angelic envoy.”

Goldie smiled at the grass traveler, saying, “I could see how you would make that mistake, but I’m pretty far removed from those twits.” She looked to Erick, saying, “I’m only here because when Erick didn’t come to me, I had to go to him! Quite rude to keep a girl waiting, Erick.” She affected an exaggerated frown, adding, “And after all you shared with me. But I suppose you’ll share it with anyone who tickles your fancy these days, so while I am disappointed, I can understand sowing one’s seeds all over the place.”

Many things were happening all around Erick’s yurt, from Poi quickly establishing telepathic connections to everyone in the group, to Teressa almost getting out of her chair, but then stopping, to Nirzir looking completely perplexed. Nirzir was rapidly gaining answers from Poi, though, if her suddenly doomed facial expression was anything to go by.

Jane looked ready to kill someone, but she didn’t move. She didn’t even summon a sword, or change her form. She just waited.

Koori had yet to realize there was a Shade sitting beside her.

And the interloper was Goldie, the Shade of Assassination, for sure. The Shade Core inside her chest, where her vitals should have been, confirmed it.

Erick was pretty sure that she still had his [Blessing of Empathy], though, so maybe…

No. Bad things could still happen. Besides… he had meant to look her up… Eventually. Maybe.

“Do you come in peace?” Erick asked.

“Of course I do!” Goldie said, “I’m just here to have a chat about some stuff! That’s what you’re doing right? Going to chat with people? I figured now was as good a time as any for me to get in on that before your schedule fills up.”

Erick nodded, then slightly raised his voice, and called out, “Teressa. Could you bring our new guest some hot rice wine?”

Goldie brightened even further than she already was, and said, “Thank you, Erick.”

Koori held her tongue, trying to understand what was happening, but knowing, instinctively, that something very, very bad was happening, and that everything could get a whole lot worse.

Teressa, in a bout of uncharacteristic over-professionalism, smoothly exited the yurt, standing straight and tall, while grasping a tray that held the bottle of rice wine and an extra cup. She set the tray down beside Erick on a little table, then poured the drink into the cup, being very precise about everything the entire time; from the straightness of her back, to the surety of her stance. When the drink was full, she placed it atop the palm of her flattened hand, and then she presented the cup to Goldie.

It was all very odd.

Goldie smiled at Teressa and took the cup. “Such professionalism. Thank you for the hospitality.”

Teressa took that as her dismissal, so she calmly stepped backward, not turning her back to the Shade, and escaped into the yurt.

Goldie sipped the drink, then asked Erick, “How would you like to move this conversation along? Shall we continue to talk of things that won’t happen for a hundred years, or would you like to discuss all the dragons you’ll be finding and killing?” With a dark promise in her words, but nothing untoward present in her voice, she asked, “Or would you like me to inform all of those dragons where the others of their kind are, and we can move this dragon fight up to today?”

Koori still didn’t quite understand who Goldie was, but she was getting there.

Erick asked, “Would there be less collateral damage, this time?”

“Unfortunately...” Goldie wiped a stray tear from her left eye, scattering the droplet of light to the white floor of the yurt where it evaporated into a dark spot. She breathed. “There will be casualties. This is sort of why I came to you; to mitigate upcoming problems before they become problems. I did not expect Terror Peaks to be that competent.” She regained herself, fully, and said, “And this time, I could use an operator who I know I can trust.”

Koori had very much noticed Goldie’s teardrop. For a brief, long moment, her eyes fixed upon the spot of black on the white wood of the cart. And then she glanced up to Goldie, and recognition appeared in Koori’s mind, and upon her face. She kept it together, though, only betraying her inner thoughts with the briefest of hard flinches and a sharp intake of breath. Her earlier confusion left her, and in its wake, came stoic calm. She said nothing. She only watched.

Erick spared the smallest of attentions to Koori, and only because she was an unknown actor, and things could turn very, very bad for her if she fucked up and said something wrong. Everyone else inside the yurt was perfectly calm, and ready to… escape, Erick hoped. He hoped they wouldn’t do anything stupid like trying to fight Goldie, or to start a fight here, of all places.

Erick asked Goldie, “Did Queen fuck up somewhere along the line? Is that why the war with Terror Peaks took 4 million lives?”

Goldie explained, “It was a mutual failure, of so, so many parts. Some of the larger failures were Terror Peaks getting hold of so many Extreme Light materials, and so many soul spears. That came out of nowhere, and we’re pretty sure that unknown backers were involved, somehow. Perhaps Kirginatharp was involved, for there was definitely some [Duplicate] going on in there. Tyli —Kirginatharp's Elite— She hasn’t found anything yet, or else she has, and she was told to ignore it. I’m not keeping too up with that thread, since there are so many others out there happening all at the same time. This thing happening right here, in these grasslands, looks to be the next big event in Nelboor, so I’m mostly focused on this place, now.

“The whole thing with Songli was a success, though. Even with all those deaths.

“Unless something very large happens, Songli will be able to bring about Empire, as planned, and that means many, many more people, all living their lives as they desire, which means we’ve done some good in the world.” Goldie said, “Now, if the remaining people of Songli would learn to defend themselves instead of letting themselves be defended by others, then that would be a total win. But I’m not made of miracles; I’ll take what I can get.”

Erick innocently asked, “Songli was a success?”

Goldie frowned a little, recognizing Erick’s anger. In response, she said, “No one expected you to get taken out by a soul attack, and, like. Honestly, Erick. That was embarrassing for you. You did clean up rather well afterward, but those first few hours could have been so much easier. Next time just kill them all and be done with it.”

“I will never do that.”

Koori flinched, then stared at Erick.

Goldie nodded, saying, “And that is why I chose to come here. You’re going after dragons now, and they’re one of the final impediments toward Empire and progress. It’s disgusting, actually. But anyway. To make a long journey short: I could point you in their directions. Or I could point out all of them to each other. There would be disasters either way, but your ‘debates’ in Ooloraptoor would be disastrous, anyway. Might as well cut to the end! Cut out the problem, now, with as much severing light as you can conjure!”

… And he had just gotten through with telling Koori to ‘step up’.

Ugh.

Great timing, Goldie.

… Which was probably exactly why she came here, in this particular moment.

“I cannot,” Erick said, “I have limits, too. I’m trying to confront whoever tried to kill me without killing them back, and with compassion. If they deserve it.”

Goldie’s cheerful facade broke a little, revealing pain and sorrow and exhaustion. “Aye. I thought you might say that.”

Erick chose compassion for Goldie, too, saying, “You have a hundred and one years to do a thousand and one good deeds. Don’t try to do them all right now. Take a break. Step back. See the world for what it is, and not for what it could be.”

Goldie gave a sad smile. Though her mouth was upturned, her eyes were on the verge of tears. “I see too many options for good, Erick. And so, I take those options.” She wiped away another quick tear. “Queen is inconsolable after the disaster of the Chelation War. She will take a break, because she cannot do otherwise. But I can still keep going, and so I must. When the wars of Nelboor have stopped, then I will stop. That is my goal, because it is an eminently reachable goal.” She asked, “Won’t you join me in ending the wars of this land?”

“… I advise you to think a lot more deeply about getting involved in any more wars, for your involvement makes you culpable.” Erick wanted to scream at her, but that would accomplish nothing, and so he simply said, “Culpability in so many deaths goes directly against the idea of you repenting for your sins.”

Goldie sniffled. “I thought Songli would do better. I thought it wouldn’t be that bad. 200,000 deaths. That was what I foresaw.” She breathed. She stared off into space. Then she looked to Erick. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, right? So why are you going after dragons?”

“They went after me, first.”

“Right. I knew that. You said that.” Goldie sat straighter. She dried her tears. And her facade of cheerfulness fell away, completely, as her voice took on a Darker tone, “But you know so little about how dragons exist and operate. You don’t even know the dragons’ greatest desire. It is this desire that informs everything they do, and even Kirginatharp is not immune to this need that is emplaced upon his very soul. Shall I tell you? It might help.”

“Yes.”

Erick agreed without hesitation. Shades didn’t lie, after all. They might twist the truth, but they certainly did not lie. Whatever Goldie said would have bearing on what was to come, for sure.

“It is to do with Wizards.” Goldie said, “Dragons hunt Wizards in order to have the Wizard spend themselves against their dragon curse. Weak Wizards can cure a single dragon, dying in the process. A strong Wizard could cure a dozen dragons before dying. A truly strong Wizard could cure Kirginatharp, himself, who was the source of the Dragon Curse, for it was he who was directly cursed by his brother Idyrvamikor.

“There has never been a truly strong Wizard born on Veird, but that does not stop Kirginatharp from looking.

“Dragon civilization has gotten by, though, for Wizardry is not the only answer to the Curse; it is simply the best, most permanent answer.

“There is another, temporary, localized cure. The cure of True Magic; the cure of Easy Wizardry. This cure is only obtainable in one spot in this world, for that spot is the cure. It is a Vision of another place and time, where a dead cosmology still holds and dragons can live without killing each other. Only three dragons are forbidden from that place, and I know that you can guess every one of those three.”

The wind whistled.

Erick thought. He knew exactly what Goldie was talking about.

No one said anything.

And then, Erick changed topics, and lightly said, “You left notes on Shendeng’s pillow to make him think I stole his rain spells… What the fuck, Goldie?”

Goldie’s seriousness vanished like mist under the sun. She returned to her joyful self and laughed out loud, exclaiming, “That guy steals from everyone! He has no room to talk!” When she saw Erick wasn’t laughing, she said, “In a straight fight you would win against any five archmages of his level. Don’t worry about him.” She looked to Koori, and Koori managed not to flinch under the dissecting gaze of the Shade. With a small frown, Goldie turned back to Erick, saying, “As far as what you were talking about before: if the Script didn’t grant unearned power to everyone then the Darkness wouldn’t need to escalate against them. If the Script was just a holder of mana, and nothing else, then that would be fine. Among many other problems, such as [Cleanse] accidentally killing unborn children—”

Koori flinched again.

“—face stealers would not exist, for [Polymorph] would not be available in a potion.”

Erick said, “If people did not have the Script empowering them then everyone would have died to the Shades and other monsters long before now.”

“I know we did wrong, Erick.” Goldie said, “We’re pulling back and making amends as best we can because Melemizargo demands it, but the other half of that unspoken agreement is going to need to be honored, eventually. We gave up power, which means the Script needs to give up power, in return.” Goldie said, “And another thing— Two points, actually. One: it is a myth that Melemizargo controls all the monsters. All he did was empower Ancients who controlled their own subsets of monsters, but he stopped doing that. If the people of this world want those Ancients gone, then they’re going to have to do it themselves. And two: The problem of monsters will always exist in the mana. If the Script was less controlling, those monsters would be a lot less violent. If you want to be truthful about ‘what makes monsters kill people’, you should blame the Script.”

Erick said, “I’m not about to talk to anyone on Melemizargo’s behalf right now, and the Script is certainly not to blame for the actions of all monsters.”

“Eh. That’s true too. But whatever. Y’all were talking about problems of degree, when the problem of the Script has nothing to do with degree, at all! And since I needed to talk to you anyway, I said the words that needed to be said.” Goldie set down her cup on the floor beside her. “Thanks for the drink. Good luck with whatever dragon-thing you’re doing; I won’t get involved unless you ask me to get involved. Farewell!”

And then she was gone.

No fanfare. No departing lights. No waiting for a ‘goodbye’, though Erick wasn’t sure he would have given one, anyway… Which is probably why Goldie chose to leave like that; She was a very capable prognosticator, and likely saw every possible way their conversation could have gone.

Erick felt he handled himself well? Did he? Yeah, probably.

Koori, though, breathed out hard then inhaled just as hard, before leaning over and putting her head between her knees, trying to get hold of her emotions— And then she shot up, to sit rigid, and calm. She remained silent.

No one else was silent.

The entire caravan had noticed the Shade in their midst, but no one made a move until after it was over, and now that it was over…

Yelling. Screaming. Spells being launched into the open with no rhyme or reason. [Ward]s getting cast into the air and getting left behind as yurts started moving out of formation; someone had tried to cast a protective spell around themselves but failed to anchor the magic to an object. Cows were getting really upset because their people were upset. Everyone moved away from Erick’s yurt.

Erick’s yurt continued on just fine, though. He slowed the vehicle down as everyone else raced away, because everyone’s day was rather thoroughly ruined, but he didn’t immediately come to a stop.

While all of that was still in the middle of happening, Koori looked to Erick, and said, “I wish to continue this conversation later.” And then she got up, turned toward the other yurts, and leapt off of Erick’s yurt while simultaneously yelling at everyone to calm down.

Koori went to work.

Erick almost didn’t let her have the last word. He almost told her that her own desires for the removal of easy magic from everyone perfectly mirrored the desires of the Shades. But Erick had more wherewithal than that. So, instead, he simply remained in his chair and poured himself another glass of rice wine.

He offered, “Anyone else want some hot rice wine?”

Jane came out, saying, “Sure.”

- - - -

The panic after Goldie’s departure had caused more damage to yurts and people than anything else, and so, once the loudness and disorganization died down and the threat was gone, Niyazo, Koori, and the cowherds and warriors were all gathered and informed of what had happened.

Erick watched it all from the seat of his yurt, almost a kilometer outside of the re-gathered Clan Pale Cow. Erick hadn’t moved his yurt away from the others; everyone else had moved themselves away from him. But they hadn’t told him to leave; not yet, anyway.

From what Erick could see, they were still deciding if they wanted to ask him to leave, and Niyazo was pushing back hard against those scared voices who wanted the archmage gone. Surprisingly, when Koori gave an unbiased account of what had happened, she didn’t throw Erick under the yurt. The woman was actually standing up for Erick’s words and actions in the face of an unexpected Shade.

And that was nice.

Teressa sat on the edge of Erick’s yurt, her booted feet resting upon the plain as she looked toward Clan Pale Cow. In a relaxed tone, she said, “I had forgotten about how it felt to be around a Shade.”

Jane asked, “When was the last time you were around one? That close, I mean.”

“Three years ago, back when I was still on active duty.” Teressa said, “Cludolphis, the Shade of Mending. We were on a rescue mission to find a missing Healer after some adventurers had killed some monsters and wrecked some spires. We took too long. Cludolphis found us when she came to repair a spire. She required us to take tea with her, and then she killed one of the new recruits when they failed to sip tea properly.” She added, “The guy didn’t expect to get in that much trouble for he had heard that the Shades were lenient against new people. Well… Shows how much he knew.”

Nirzir held herself against the doorframe to the yurt like she was holding it for support. She hadn’t said a word since Goldie arrived and then left. Wide eyed and yet all ears, she listened.

Poi said, “I met Crimsonair four years ago. He mutilated a teammate into a minor abomination for the transgression of speaking too loud.” Poi continued, “I went to the city side of the Army after that.”

Jane stared at nothing. “I expected more visits than that.”

Teressa smirked, saying, “You got a lot more face time with them than the normal person, Jane.”

Jane nodded.

Erick explained, “Both of those Shades are dead now. Cludolphis was on Tania’s side during the final battle. Crimsonair was on Fallopolis’s side. I saw them fighting. The Shade of Mending was floating inside of a crystalline Solid Ward to protect themselves, the Shade of Blood was a giant monster of red fluid. I think Crimsonair killed Cludolphis, and then he was killed in turn by someone else on Tania’s side. But it was all rather chaotic. I have no idea what actually happened there. At the end, I was just… Trying to survive, and ensure the good outcome.”

Nirzir broke her silence, asking, “The good outcome was millions of highlanders dead in a war sparked by the Shades?”

Nirzir’s tone was not accusative. She was just perplexed. Confused. She needed to know. Erick needed to know what the heck she was saying, though, because the cause and effect in what Nirzir was saying was rather spread out. But he understood her logical trail, soon enough.

And so Erick answered, “I think it was more that the Shades are trying to repent, and they knew of what was happening over here, and so, in Goldie’s mind, Songli ascending to Empire was the good outcome.” He explained, “As of years ago, Terror Peaks was already headed to war; it only erupted now because of the chelation treatments pioneered by Songli, and because everyone is looking to fill the power vacuum left by Last Shadow’s Feast. Terror Peaks tried to strike hard, and everyone underestimated.” He looked to the young girl, and said, “Keep in mind that the Shades might have been culled, and their priesthood dissolved by divine mandate from Melemizargo himself, but the base desire of the Darkness is to drive people to strength. That will never change. Do you understand?”

Nirzir nodded, a little.

Erick nodded in return, saying, “And so, to drive Songli to strength, Goldie and Queen set up some pillars, ready for your nation to knock them down and to build upon the bounty that followed. But they expected more out of Songli than Songli brought, and at the same time, they didn’t expect Terror Peaks to be as strong as they were…” Erick paused. He looked to Poi. “That part about the extra Extreme Light materials and the accusation against the Headmaster regarding [Duplicate]. What is your opinion?— Your opinion on the whole thing, actually.”

“I can’t read Shades, but professionally…” Poi stared off into the middle distance, thinking. He came back, saying, “The Shade’s view is twisted and you should never trust her, but I don’t think she was lying about her intentions, and how she thought the war would go. Her accusation against the Headmaster is unfounded, though.”

Erick let that lay for a moment.

No one spoke for a while.

Erick interrupted the silence, asking everyone, “What do you think is going to happen with Pale Cow?”

Poi said, “I have no idea. Clan Pale Cow seems to be getting hold of themselves and recognizing that their reaction was terrible.”

“These people are not prepared for what is going to happen around them if we stay.” Teressa said, “But they’re getting better.”

Jane remained silent.

Nirzir said nothing.

Erick watched Clan Pale Cow through Ophiel, while listening to the gathering with his own ears. The sound carried well on the plains.

The clan was gathered for a speech from Niyazo. The warlord spoke a patriotic message about knowing the monsters in their midst, and how Erick had already exposed those monsters once, and how he would do so again. There was light chastisement about how everyone freaked out, but then Niyazo sandwiched those words with compliments about how, during the actual Shade visitation, everyone was outwardly calm and everyone did everything as they should have done.

Teressa scoffed at that. “Only the people nearest to us actually understood what was happening, and that was only halfway through the visit. Everyone else remained perplexed the whole time. Some thought the Shade was an angel.”

“Yeah…” Erick said, “I’m not sure why the Shade of Assassination uses the biggest sword she can find. I would expect smaller weapons. Less angelic looks, too.”

Teressa said, “Bisecting is harder to heal from than brain stabs, or whatever.”

“The angel-angle has always been an oddity.” Poi said, “We don’t know why, either. It might be an affectation, or a real deal. Goldie has always been mostly-unknown to us.”

Erick said, “I got the distinct impression that she was going to get a dragon fight going even with my refusal. Did it look like that to you?”

“Yes,” Poi said.

“Maybe,” Jane said.

“I don’t know,” Teressa said.

Nirzir breathed out, “Yes.”

Erick nodded, then he said, “Well. Then. I feel I need to do something against that. A kinder way, perhaps.” He raised his hand and cast a wardlight upon the roof of his yurt, shaping light into a globe of Veird that rotated one way, while text slowly rotated the other way, like the ticker on a stock market. “Maybe talking will prevent an all out war.”

Erick’s main message read: ‘Let’s Talk About Solutions.’ And then in smaller text, below the main message, it read ‘Appointments available and preferred. Paperwork required – No [Telepathy]. Confidentiality assured unless waived. I can meet you through my [Familiar]. Violence is met with violence, peace is met with peace. Harsh words are fine!’

Jane glanced upward, then she frowned a little. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Oh yes. It absolutely is.” Erick said, “But the point is to talk to dragons, so I might as well try to discuss problems with everyone who has problems. It’s what I used to do, but this is certainly a larger scale.” He added, “Maybe it’s a bad idea, but there’s no harm in trying something new.”

Teressa lifted her head toward Clan Pale Cow, saying, “They noticed the sign.”

“It is meant to be noticeable.” Erick paused. He asked, “I could make it less noticeable?”

“It’s not like you made it as massive and as glowing as you could have.” Jane said, “It’s still a big damned globe of light and a very serious invitation to danger.”

“There’s always danger, Jane.” Erick said, “And besides, a lot of archmages have systems like this in place so that they can meet with clients and otherwise.”

“I’m not complaining, dad.” Jane said, “The Headmaster has a whole department dedicated to organizing how people approach him for help, but isn’t this a bit soon for you? I mean—”

Poi grunted out, “Er. Sir.”

Erick looked to the man—

Poi had about a hundred tendrils of thought invading his mind.

“Ah. Shit.” Erick said, “I explicitly wrote up there—!”

Poi exclaimed, “It’s fine. I can—” All at once, most of the tendrils of thought evaporated, leaving him with five. He breathed, then said, “I fixed it on my end. Uh. I told them that you would need a physical application for an appointment, dropped in a box.” Poi looked around. “A box made of the yurt? Is that okay—” He twitched as another hundred tendrils tried to touch him, and then were rebuffed. “Er.” Poi looked to Erick. “That will have to be okay. I instituted a feedback loop for all inquiries.”

Erick said, “I did not mean to put this on you, Poi; you are obviously not expected to fulfill any of this. And yes: I’ll put a box up over here.” With a wave of his hand, just so that people would know that he was doing something, Erick Shaped the front-right corner of the yurt, drawing the wood from the surroundings up into a large, double mailbox. With another cast, he added a spinning globe of white light atop the box, along with more glowing letters. “There. ‘Paperwork goes in the box. NO [Telepathy]’. That should be good.”

“Much better.” Poi relaxed. “They were all tiny inquiries, but they’re usually not all piled up like that. I think most of them wanted… I’m not sure.” He looked to the box, and said, “You need paperwork, now.”

“Yes, I do.” Erick got up from his chair, saying, “I did not expect something to happen so quickly.”

Nirzir whispered, “People always watch from the sky.”

Not a single person glanced upward, for they did not need to physically look up to see what might be up there. Everyone except for Nirzir was already behaving as though they were under scrutiny. And then Nirzir seemed to realize her words, and her stance of holding onto the doorframe, and how weak it made her appear. So she let go of the door frame, straightened up, and stood strong, banishing her fear.

Jane glanced to the young girl, and held back a gentle smile.

Erick, meanwhile, nodded to Nirzir, and said, “I’m always popping [Scry] eyes when I’m out and about like this. Or, rather, Ophiel pops those eyes. I can’t do a thing about the far-away ones, though—” He had a thought. He said, “I once saw the Headmaster clap a [Scry] eye and I think it hurt the person on the other side. Do you know how to do that?”

Nirzir said, “I would love to know how to do this magic. If you find out, will you please tell me?”

Erick smiled. “Of course.”

He guessed it was [Scry], but inverted with Destruction, or something. He didn’t actually know, though.

Nirzir bowed a little, then straightened.

Erick looked to the ground, saying, “And here’s the paper.”

Erick had Ophiel running a job in the background, but now that job was complete. Exactly where Erick was already looking, a stack of white paper, bound in brown paper and twine, appeared in front of him, plopping onto the eternal stonewood. Nirzir only jumped a little bit; everyone else had been prepared. One second later, a pot of ink [Teleport Object]’d right beside the papers, while off to the side, a block of scrap metal plonked down onto the cart. They were the three objects necessary to make paperwork; Ophiel had done well. Erick patted the little guy on his shoulder and Ophiel twittered in response.

With a controlled sunform and precise [Metalshape]ing, Erick constructed a stamp that would fit the paperwork. When he was done, the resultant metal looked a bit like a branding iron, but much, much larger; it was sized to fit the paper. Erick smiled as he applied ink to the iron, and stamped out his first page. And then he frowned. The words were splotchy and illegible. A minor tweak to the metal fixed that. The next page turned out much better.

There wasn’t much to the text; just the normal stuff. Name, topic of discussion, desired outcome, desired time of meeting (along with second and third desired time), some caveats to the whole thing that all favored Erick (which amounted to him saying that he might not even meet the petitioner if he didn’t feel like it), and a few other things.

One of those ‘few other things’ was a box for a thumbprint of the petitioner, done in their own blood, inside the provided space. Asking for the blood of a person was a nefarious enough demand to weed out most casual inquiries, but more than that, it was a good way for Erick to locate the petitioner. This reasoning was even stated right beside that box, too.

Erick printed out a good fifty pages, drying them with heat and light as he went, and then he set those pages into a holder beside the appointment box. A final application of Shaping upon the paired boxes informed anyone who saw the two boxes to ‘Take One’ and ‘Leave One’, and ‘Thank you’.

By the time he was done with that minor job, Niyazo and Koori were walking his way. After a minute they reached his yurt and hopped aboard. Both looked serious. Both were putting on a show for everyone else watching from the rest of the clan, a full kilometer away.

“Welcome to my yurt.” Erick asked, “Are you revoking clanfriend status?”

Niyazo blanked for a good half second, as though he could not believe what he was hearing, then he recovered. He said, “Not unless you wish to leave. The disorder after the woman’s departure was something I did not think we needed to work on, for apparently the stories of danger told around the cauldrons are not good enough preparation for when the shadows truly appear.”

Koori said, “We know who you are. We know what you have done. Some people forgot that. I, even, forgot that. With great discipline, Clan Pale Cow can weather this storm. We are prepared.” She added, “I formally apologize for my rudeness today, and yesterday, Erick.”

That they were so clearly forgiving him for what he had brought to their doorstep… It was a surprise. But it shouldn’t have been. The people of Veird had been dealing with Shades since the Sundering. Those monsters or their envoys could appear wherever they wished to appear, and it was up to everyone else to push them back. When it came to the Shades, everyone else was on the same side, and animosities were discarded.

Erick said, “Then I and my people will continue along this path. Do you wish for us to maintain a distance from your clan?”

“Please join us for meals and community,” Niyazo said, “But maintaining a kilometer distance at all other times might be… reasonable. If you do not mind.”

“Acceptable,” Erick said. “Agreed.”

Koori spoke, “As far as our conversation: I am aware that you might not want to continue it, but I would like to.” She glanced upward at the sign Erick had made, then back to Erick. “Shall I make an appointment?”

Erick smiled softly as he grabbed a sheet of ‘printed’ paper. He handed it to Koori, saying, “I will make some time for you, but I also expect to have a lot of talks with other people, too.”

Koori took the sheet of paper like it was a dangerous object, then she nodded to Erick. She turned and hopped off the yurt, and began walking away.

Niyazo remained for another few moments, to say, “The caravan is continuing. Thank you for staying, Erick.”

“Of course, Niyazo.”

And then the warlord followed his wife back to their clan.

Things proceeded rather normally, from there. Not twenty minutes later, Erick was back in his chair, feeling the wind upon his face, as the cart trundled along to the north. To the left, Clan Pale Cow’s yurts trundled along just as they had been before, except now the nearest one was a kilometer away.

Jane sat down beside him, saying, “So what happened to being incognito?”

“I can still do that, just not right now.” Erick added, “Later, for sure.”

She glanced toward the mailbox. “Ophiel likes his new perch.”

Erick had constructed a perch upon the mailbox, above the glowing globe for Ophiel to stand upon. The little guy took well to his new spot, singing in small musical sounds while the wind rustled across his stretched out wings.

Erick smiled a little. “He does.”

“Anyone pick up a form yet? Invisibly, perhaps?”

“Not that I’ve seen. I’ve counted the papers a few times, too, and they’re all still there. People were willing to send messages, though, so maybe the watchers far above are just waiting till I’m not looking? I’m not sure.”

Near silence returned, but Ophiel was still chirping away in a jazz-like rendition of some music he had overheard elsewhere.

Jane asked, “Do you want to talk about what Goldie said? About what the dragons are after?”

He did. And yet, at the same time, he did not. For his feelings on what Goldie had said were complicated. He was still figuring out most of those feelings, too.

And so, Erick said, “Not yet.”

Jane nodded.

The caravan rode on.

- - - -

Sitting in his chair, feeling the wind upon his face, Erick thought of dragons and Wizards and Idyrvamikor’s curse, and what made one Wizard more ‘powerful’ than another… And Erick came to a conclusion that he already had, long ago: He did not know too much about Wizards, at all. Oh, sure, there were the easy deductions that he could make with existing knowledge, but joining together everything that he had learned from Goldie wasn’t going to get him very much further than he already was.

He was still going to do it, though.

Several days ago, Erick met with the Dragon Stalkers and they gave him specific examples of small ‘Illusion-based’ Wizardry.

Fake Kill Notifications. Casting spells without the need for mana. Sin Seeker Avoidance. Blue boxes for spells one does not have. Status Fakery.

And then there were the larger Wizardries which the Mirage Dragon has never displayed, which would mark that dragon as a true Wizard:

[Strike]ing as though a person had no Health. Taking a spell out of a person for one’s own use. Emptying a person of their mana. Casting spells faster than the Script Second.

If there was no trickery involved, and if those actions were exactly as they appeared to be —direct effects; not heavily nuanced magic that only appeared to be Wizardry— then they were the actions of a Wizard.

In the broadest possible sense of ‘what is a Wizard’, Wizards could cast spells outside of the Script, without care for the Bans and the structure that the Script imposed upon everyone. But that was a superficial overview of Wizardry.

Shades also cast spells outside of the Script, using the Old Cosmology methods of magic that were still taught inside Brightwater, inside Ar’Kendrithyst. Erick wasn’t too sure what that meant, exactly, but he was pretty sure that they shaped their souls and then cast spells that way; whatever that meant.

Shades were a special kind of monster, though. All other monsters cast innate magics that the Script quantified after the monster made their magics. Erick knew what that meant, though, when it came to the sapient monsters, or rather specifically shadelings. Shadelings were automatically matriculated into a specific, monster Script, every single time they came out of their fugue state, or were reborn into another incarnation. Shadelings, like other monsters, only had access to a curated Script.

That was getting off on a tangent, though.

Shades pretended at the power of Wizards, but they were not Wizards.

They were still subject to the Foundational Bans of the Script. They could not propagate spellwork to change the world, for the Propagation Ban prevented that. They could not open a dimensional portal back to the Old Cosmology, for that’s the Dimensional Ban. They could not do things to mana, itself, for that would be against the Infinitesimal Ban.

But a Wizard…

Erick was almost 100% sure that a true Wizard could break any of the Bans. Of all the things Erick knew of Wizards, which was not a lot, he was pretty sure about that fact.

(Another thing was that Wizards made a lot of mana, but understanding that was beyond Erick at this current time, so he let that lie.)

According to the Shades (And Quilatalap), Wizards fell into three categories: Creation, Destruction, and Paradox. Once a Wizard picked one of those directions, they were stuck with their choice. That was what everyone said, but was that true?

Creation and Destruction were very much opposites, if Erick was understanding that correctly. Creation Wizardry wasn’t about shifting one thing into something else and calling that ‘Creation’, after all. It was about actual creation. The manifestation of something from nothing.

Destruction was the opposite; the shifting of something into nothing.

Unless all of that was wrong? Did every lay person get it wrong? Erick had certainly never talked to a Wizard before… Except for Melemizargo?

Melemizargo didn’t count.

Perhaps the three choices were not a trinity, but a line? A line with Creation on one end and Destruction on the other, and everything in between was Paradox? No. Wait. That didn’t fit with time travel, which was a known Paradox Wizard ability.

The Creation/Destruction/Paradox was probably a true trinity.

Bah! Erick could just ask people for these answers. He could talk to the shadows under the grass or under his yurt, right now, and see what Melemizargo had to say about all of this. That seemed like asking for a bad time, though.

Anyway.

Wizards. And Dragons.

Whatever dragons wanted with Wizards probably had to do with using Paradox Wizardry against the Infinitesimal Ban, to change something about the dragon in question, to make them immune to the Dragon Blood Curse.

Was that correct? It seemed… yes?

Yes.

That had to be it.

The dragons certainly didn’t want their existence ‘created’ into a cure? That didn’t make sense.

They probably didn’t want their Curse removed, either, since the Curse was actually upon Dragon Essence itself.

Yes. A dragon likely wanted a Wizard to Paradox their Dragon Essence into something other than what it was, but which allowed them to retain their ‘dragony’ powers. That seemed like ‘Paradox’ all the way.

But…

The Dragon Stalkers were convinced that dragons were inherently Wizardly, but in small ways, and with Goldie’s suggestions about how Wizards could be classified by degrees of power, then, it was by these facts that Erick knew that the small Wizardries of dragons were not enough to break them of their curse. Or perhaps they could break each other of their curses, if one wanted to sacrifice themselves in order to do so? Most dragons probably weren’t about that.

So where did that put Erick, as a nascent Wizard?

Hunted by dragons, for sure.

And Tenebrae, too, now that he thought about it. That old archmage had asked Erick if he knew of any Wizards, because if he did, then they could go retrieve that Wizard, and deliver that Wizard to the dragons to learn the secrets of [Gate]. Which, according to Tenebrae, would not result in the death of that Wizard, but which, according to Goldie, would result in the death of that Wizard.

… Tenebrae didn’t seem like the kinda guy to sacrifice someone to gain power. Sure, he would let someone kill themselves, and he would certainly kill someone who was threatening him, but sacrifice? Erick did not think Tenebrae was like that.

Well. Whatever.

There were many reasons Erick had never told anyone that the gods had called him a Wizard. That there was a brand new, confirmed threat against him, because he was a Wizard, was not unexpected.

A lot of gods knew he was a Wizard, though. And so did the Shades.

Kirginatharp probably knew, right? Or maybe not.

Maybe the gods would keep something like that to themselves… unless they wanted Erick dead. Which…

Well.

Sininindi wanted him dead for messing with her storms, right? All she had to do was release one specific fact into the world and then Erick would be hunted by everyone. That Erick wasn’t being hunted right now either meant that she was waiting for the right time, or that she did not want him dead.

After a while of thinking and guessing and deducting, all without any true answers, Erick could only decide on one thing: He was going to ask the dragons about Wizards, whenever one of them showed up.

And he would never, ever, tell anyone that he was a Wizard, ever. (But he already knew that.)

- - - -

Clan Pale Cow had stopped for the night at a large riverside and Erick parked his yurt a kilometer away, as requested.

Jane offered, “We can go get dinner and bring it back, dad.”

“Or we can just cook here.” Teressa said, “We can [Grow] our own stuff by the river, too.”

They were thinking things were going to go poorly, which was expected, sure. But...

“No no.” Erick said, “We’re going to eat with the clan, and we’re going to be personable. We’ll be back here to sleep soon enough. Besides! Nirzir helped cook! I want to know what it tastes like.”

Nirzir said, “I’m sure it’s as good as they normally make it, but it is just stew.” Nirzir had gotten over much of her fear in the hours since Goldie’s appearance, spending much of that time talking to other people through [Telepathy]. Her voice was now that of a normal-enough teenager, “Though Waveni did promise other dishes!”

Erick smiled. He had already checked out the cooking yurt, so he could confidently say, “I think you’ll be surprised at what they have, tonight.” He hopped off of the yurt, saying, “Come on! Let’s go eat.”

Erick led the way through the trampled grass, and everyone followed. The sun was an hour from setting, and the sky was already awash in orange and gold, while the shadows upon the land seemed purple.

The yurts of the clan had been scattered in an organized manner, looking like white bumps upon the grasses, with people pulled up alongside their friends, or family, but most of those were on the other side of the cooking yurt. The cooking yurt itself was positioned toward Erick’s yurt, which was probably on purpose; Either to make it easier for him to approach, or because others were scared of him.

Probably both.

Zan and Solia, and their accompanying baby, had their yurt parked on this side of the cooking yurt, though. Those people were clearly okay with Erick, which was nice to see. The hawkery was similarly positioned toward Erick’s approach to the cooking yurt, and that was nice, too. Both places were emptied of their people, though, as those people were already at the cooking yurt.

The cooking yurt was visible for kilometers already, but once Erick got close enough, his people could see what Clan Pale Cow had done, and they relaxed. None of them had said anything too judgmental of the clan, but they were thinking it, for sure. Erick was thinking he was unwelcomed, too, but that changed when he saw what they were putting up for him.

Torches held upon poles all around the cafeteria zone, creating a perimeter to the party, while colorful streamers and fabrics had been pulled out of storage and draped over every table and over the sides of every nearby yurt. Clansmen played their drums and their cellos, beating out a cheerful song into the night as kegs were already tapped, and the beer was already flowing. It didn’t take them long to get this up and running; they were already 90% prepared by the time the clan stopped for the night, with people running back and forth between the yurts of the clan for the last few hours. That final 10% was just the drivers of the other yurts finally showing up for the party and the placement of torches stuck into the grassland.

The people wore their best clothes, and as an unorganized group, they stopped their chatter when Erick came into the wide circle of light.

Niyazo came out of the group, and spoke above all, “Welcome to Clan Pale Cow, Archmage Flatt. May the sun always greet you with warmth and light, and if it does not, know that there is always a place at our table for you and yours.”

Erick smiled.

As one, every clansman called out, “Welcome to Clan Pale Cow!”

The roar turned into a disorganized cheer, and Erick soon found himself with a beer shoved in his hand and an invitation to partake of the whole roasted cow, and all the other foods they had made for this feast. Breads. Rices of more than just the white variety. Sauces. Grilled vegetables of all kinds.

As he got himself some food, a young woman also in line for the food asked him if that sign above his yurt was for anyone. Erick happily replied that yes, it was, for now, but it might not stay that way. Another woman asked him if he was going to [Grow] some food with them, tomorrow. Erick had already planned on a little of that, and so he told them this much.

Conversations started organically, or, more realistically, based on some hierarchy of clan status, along with Erick’s own physical location in the party, and if it looked like a good moment to start up a conversation, or not. Most of the talking went quick, with a small question and a polite answer, or a nice comment, or a thanks. Everyone seemed to want to make him feel welcomed, and they did.

And then Erick felt even better about the night when a young man approached, one hand nervously held in the other, and asked a scandalous question right in the middle of everyone.

“I have a small problem of a magical nature, Archmage Flat, and I was wondering if you could help.”

A few people flinched at the mention of magic, but everyone listened in; even those having conversations at other tables. They were polite about the snooping, of course, and no one was actually putting Erick in the middle of the clan and then bombarding him with questions. Some people at other tables were deep in the middle of their own stories and jokes and laughter, and they didn’t give one whit to whatever Erick was doing. This was a family gathering; not an interrogation. People were simply making their way to Erick as they were wont, and this young man was very much in need of something rather important

From the other nearby table, Speaker Yorila watched the young man with deep interest.

Erick still had yet to talk to her, too, but he imagined she would get involved soon enough.

Erick said to the young man, “I’d lend an ear. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

With approximately all of his gumption and bravery, words spilled out of the young man, “I have never been good at magic and I feel I need to be good at magic if danger can [Blink] in like that person did and I—” He cut himself off, either his words failing him or the sudden silence of everyone else forcing him to be quiet himself.

Erick guessed, “You’ve never been good at magic, so you want some tips?”

The young man nodded, shaking his head up and down with vigor.

Other people listened with keen interest.

Erick nodded, then said, “There are many things that are not told about how to make mana into magic, for to tell these secrets is to invite disaster upon the unsuspecting. I might, however, be able to give you some hints, if I find a reason to tell you some of these smaller secrets, and if you make an appointment. The paperwork is in that box at my yurt. Feel free to take a form and fill it out.”

“Yes, sir! I’ll go do that right now!”

And then the kid rushed away without waiting for another word from Erick.

The rest of the night went a lot better than Erick’s first night with Clan Pale Cow.

Time wore on. Food was packed away. More beer came out. People danced, though Erick just talked to people who wanted to talk. It was nice.

It was at least two more hours of casual conversation, much of it about nothing at all, or about news that other people had heard, before Erick decided to leave the party, mostly because he could tell Nirzir was socially exhausted. Teressa and Jane both had people they were talking to, about teaching and about cheese, respectively, so they stayed back. In the full dark, and with Nirzir leading the way in a hurry to retreat to a quieter space, Nirzir, Erick, and Poi, walked back to the yurt.

One of Ophiel had remained on top of the box the whole time, handing out forms and taking them back from people who brought them back. Erick was surprised to see that half of the forms were gone. He was even more surprised to see that only three of them had been returned, filled out. Perhaps the bloody thumbprint scared off most people; it would have scared off Erick, for sure.

Only the first two forms were from people Erick knew, with one form being from Urshao, the young man with the magical problem whom Erick had talked to at the party, and the other from Speaker Yorila.

The third was from a ‘Warlord Linxel’, from ‘Clan Green Grass, a True Traveler clan’, who wanted to talk about ‘your intention to join the debates at Ooloraptoor, and a counteroffer to prevent that joining’. A location and desired time was given for the talk, and while Erick had no idea where ‘the Twin Rocks along the Barlaxl tributary’ was located, Ophiel had seen everyone who took a form and who brought the form back, and a thumbprint of blood had been put into the provided box. After a few failed [Cascade Imaging]s for the woman who brought back the completed form (which meant something but Erick wasn’t sure what, though he wasn’t going to jump to sinister explanations right yet), Erick Imaged for the blood in the thumbprint. He found Clan Green Grass. They were camped out by a massive boulder that had been split in half, beside a shallow river; the Twin Rocks and the Barlaxl tributary, for sure. Tomorrow morning Erick would meet with Linxel at the man’s desired time, and place. After that, he would meet with Urshao and Yorila.

Erick wasn’t sure why, but sleep came easy that night.

In the morning, he figured the easy sleep came because of two reasons. The first, was that the people around him had welcomed him into their society, even though he brought trouble with him. That was respectable and brave of them. The second, was that Erick was preparing to do something he had done for two decades already.

He was going to meet a client!

And there was paperwork, and everything!

And what’s more: Erick was himself the person who decided if the people he saw got help, or not.

… Which was both a blessing, and a curse, really.

The caravan got underway early that morning, for today was a day of distant travel and they needed all the time they could get.

So while Jane and Nirzir were out at the other yurts, learning to make cheese and learning how to cook, Erick sat back in his captain’s chair, feeling the wind upon his face and the sun against his skin. A little while later, at the appropriate time, he retreated inside the yurt, into the dense air, and prepared to meet a client.

- - - -

Three Ophiels, each wrapped in sunform and carrying supplies, descended from the sky to land upon the grasses near two twin rocks. Two Ophiel set down a pair of comfortable office-like chairs, though they were certainly not called that on Veird. The third Ophiel set down a perch.

And then Erick took control and set the chairs two meters apart, to face each other, while the perch went to stand behind one of the chairs. Each Ophiel alighted upon the perch, each set to look out for magics and otherwise, while Erick shaped light from the lowest Ophiel to project his own image, standing there at the meeting site.

Clan Green Grass was stationed only fifty meters away. People stood at their yurt, staring at the display of magic. Those people had been expecting Erick and their faces said as much. Other people, at other yurts, were googly eyed as they watched the magic happen. Some of them even called out to their neighbors that ‘The Archmage is here!’, prompting even more onlookers.

But at that first yurt, a message was quickly passed to the person inside. Not thirty seconds later a man came out of that home. He was incani with dark blue skin and large, spiraling horns, but he might have had some orcol mixed in there, too, for he was easily half a meter taller than most other people. No lower fangs, though. His clothes were deep brown and black hunting leathers; he matched half of the people in the clan. The other half of Green Grass clansmen wore white cotton clothes.

The tall man was warlord Linxel, and his people parted for him as he hopped off of his yurt, and headed toward Erick’s little setup.

The lightform Erick had crafted mostly looked like himself, but with white feathers for the face and around other defining characteristics. He could have gone with a very accurate representation, but he had already used this form in several places, and he kinda liked it for this sort of thing.

Soon, Linxel arrived. He looked at Erick’s lightform, then glanced toward Ophiel. He spoke in a deep voice, “Greetings, Archmage Flatt.”

“Greetings, Warlord Linxel.” Erick gestured to his chairs. “Please, sit, and let us discuss what you wish to discuss.”

Linxel frowned a little, then said, “I appreciate the nod toward hospitality, but you are not actually here, and so there can be no hospitality given nor received.”

Erick mirrored Linxel’s manner, saying, “Did you request my presence to discuss pleasantries and ritual, or to discuss my participation in Clan Pale Cow’s upcoming debates?”

Linxel huffed, almost laughing, but that emotion never reached his eyes.

Then he took a chair and sat down.

Erick sat down in his own chair, and said, “My plan for this meeting is to discuss your desires, whatever they might be. If something is said which is unclear to you, or to me, I expect that asking for clarification will not be a burden upon either of us. Know that whatever you say to me will be kept confidential, unless otherwise stated by you. That said: Do you wish for Privacy before we have this talk?”

Linxel tilted his head a little bit, trying to understand the meaning behind Erick’s words. “… Privacy? Do you wish for privacy?”

“I do not care. This is about making you comfortable, as I imagine we will be discussing very large topics.”

“… Yes, then.”

Without hesitation, Erick cast a [Sealed Privacy Ward] across the space, keeping his Ophiel half inside and half outside of the sphere. He could still connect to them, this way.

Linxel looked around. “It is see-through.”

“It is,” Erick said.

Linxel seemed to decide something right quick, then said, “Don’t get involved in the business of us grass travelers, Archmage Flatt. This is not your place. This is not your land. These are not your people, or your decisions to be making. Take your pacified Shades and go elsewhere, please. Our counteroffer to keep you away from our upcoming debates is information about magical troves of power, locked under the Tribulations, and guarded by dark beasts which no one has ever been able to kill. Whatever is down there is certainly worthy of an archmage.”

“Heard and understood. You feel that I am doing this for some sort of material gain, which is true, in a way, but it is not that simple.” Erick said, “Through a series of events which need not be elaborated upon, I am helping Clan Pale Cow with their upcoming debates because it will lure out some dragons, and I wish to find out why some dragon attacked me about two weeks ago. I feel that attacker is somewhere up here, in grass traveler territory.”

Linxel’s eyes narrowed when Erick denied him, and then his eyes bulged when Erick mentioned dragons. Supreme surprise gave way to mirth, and laughter. Roaring laughter; brief, yet complete. Linxel came down to a chuckle then said, “You pursue dragons! Gods above. Of course you want something that crazy. A dragon hoard would be a much finer treasure than whatever is in that dark place under the mountains; only one legendary monster to fight, instead of hundreds of lesser beasts.” And then he considered something. He stared at Erick’s lightform. “You’re truly after dragons, now?”

“At least the one known as the Mirage Dragon.” Erick said, “I will likely stumble across many others in that pursuit.”

“So you heard about the integration war 85 years ago, and the dragon fight that came from that?”

“I have. Through a series of events, this is exactly why I am here.”

“Your dragon attacker could be from anywhere.”

“Could be. But they’re not. They’re somewhere among the grass travelers, hiding— Which brings me to a related problem.” Erick asked, “You know you have face stealers among your people, right? I offered to clean up that problem, but only Clan Pale Cow accepted my help. This was one of the major reasons I have thrown in with their cause, specifically. I know they are who they say they are; everyone else is suspect.” He added, “One of my side goals for this whole thing happening here is to help get rid of those face stealers I missed. Would you like help finding the face stealers among your people?”

“Hmm.” Linxel frowned. “The purge that you gifted to Songli… There was an easier way to do that, than with whatever magics you possess. Clan Green Grass regularly asks our people to disclose their full Status under truthstone. We didn’t actually need your help to carry out that [Cleanse], which is why we denied your help when you offered it the first time.”

Erick frowned, and he let it show upon his avatar. “What you did works for the vast majority of cases, but it never works against the people you need it to work against.”

“That might be true when it comes to living life inside of a city, where no one speaks to their neighbors and no one knows each other’s business.” Linxel said, “Which is why Green Grass is wholly against the integration planned by Pale Cow and other integrating clans. We will lose our individual identity. We will become vulnerable to face stealers, and the other plagues of organized society. Like money and property.” He scowled at his own words, then he thought of something and his expression changed to cautious hope. He said, “So I have a different idea to get you to renege on your agreement with Pale Cow. Since you are after dragons and face stealers: What if Green Grass spoke to other True Traveler clans and we got them to agree to your desire to counter-hunt? We could even start today, with Green Grass itself. I am confident that we have no face stealers or Hunters in our midst, so there will be little upset aside from that which comes from a normal clan-wide Status inquiry, which we have already just finished doing.

“If such an event happens exactly as I think it will, then will you adjust your counter-hunt toward the integrators? Will you forgo participation in our upcoming debates at Ooloraptoor?”

“… Eminently reasonable. But if you find no dragons, which you don’t think you will, then if I agree to this then I will be losing my opportunity to poke at the entirety of your civilization, to see what falls out.” Erick said, “And besides that: You do not have pull with every single True Traveler clan out there, do you? Please understand that I am not after you, or yours; I want what is specifically not a part of your society. I want the dragons.”

Linxel sat back in his chair, regarding Erick. “I will ignore your insult that I cannot deliver what I promise.” He added, “But you are correct in that I cannot deliver the scrutiny of the entirety of our civilization unto you. I would not do so, anyway. You have no place to stand in our society, Archmage. That I am doing this much is a boon to you, and I would appreciate you seeing it as the boon that it is.”

“I see that. I see all of that. And this is why I am making a place for myself with Clan Pale Cow, so that no one needs to give me a boon like you wish to give.” Erick said, “But if you do go ahead with your offer, and if you do find dragons before the debates, and if they are the ones I am looking for, then I might not need to be involved in your society at all. So how about that? You do your normal Status inquiry, with my assistance, and if you find a dragon, then I will take care of it and then go away. But if you don’t, then I will continue as planned, to participate in three of Pale Cow’s debates at Ooloraptoor.” Erick added, “You have three days before we get to the lakeside and a few more days beyond that before the debates start, so there is time for you to think about this.”

Linxel sat in his chair, thinking heavily, and scowling just as hard.

Erick waited.

Linxel said, “I will not need your assistance with this counter-Hunt. In two days I will have new inquiry results of every single member of our clan, and that of twelve others; possibly more. Once they know what my request is for, then they will surely agree. In return, I demand that you not participate in the single debate of my choosing. One of three.”

Which would, of course, be the debate that Pale Cow could possibly lose without him, and that would not work for Erick. And besides that—

“In return for you doing nothing different? For as you have already said, you expect no face stealers or dragons.” Erick asked, “You know you can fool those truthstones, yes?”

Linxel flinched. His voice was briefly unsteady, but solidified rather quick, “You— You can fool those truthstones?”

“It is not easy, but yes.” Erick continued, asking, “And how do I even know that you will do as you say you will? Or even that your Status inquiry is a functioning inquiry that actually works?”

Linxel took offense at this, but he was still reeling from the revelation that truthstones could be faked. He harshly said, “We ask people if they have the [Polymorph] spell, or some other shape changing ability, and if they do, then we ask to see their Familiar Form list. Since there is no way to fake or change that particular Script box, this is a fine measure, since every form is always listed there. Face Stealers never get rid of their original form, so if we see another person-form, then they are killed on the spot.”

Erick had a tough time holding back his vitriol, but he did. The separation between him and his lightform helped.

Erick kept his voice perfectly personable, and said, “The primary way in which a dragon integrates and hides in a new society is to abandon everything they had before, and this means that they only have the one Familiar Form. Your tactics do not uncover the actual problem. Your tactics actually help the dragons and others hide among you, for some Hunters do not hold onto extra person-forms. Some go all the way into their new life. Your methods are flawed, and I can tell that even you know this much.”

And now Linxel was full-angry. He roared, “Then let me be clear: if there are dragons here then WE DO NOT WANT TO KNOW OF THEM!” He threw his arms wide, exclaiming, “Gods above! You cannot expect us to go against dragons!”

Erick was glad that they were finally talking about the actual problem. He said, “You are correct, I do not expect this of you. Which is why I am approaching this problem like I am. So you know: I will try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum, but I will still counter-Hunt those who have Hunted me.”

Linxel lost all his anger. He crashed back down into his chair, looking gutted. “Do not do this to us, Archmage. Please. People will die.”

Erick understood the man’s fear. Collateral damage and direct damage was a valid concern when one was going up against dragons, or against any large power. Collateral damage was even a concern when going against some of the smaller, more insidious powers, like face stealers and Hunters. Erick had compassion for Linxel, for the warlord was fully aware of the problem, but to do anything about the problem would be to invite disaster upon himself, and others.

But to do nothing about those hidden powers was to let them kill and kill again.

It was a choice between horror today, or horror tomorrow and for forever afterward.

Erick said, “People are already dying, Linxel, and you are choosing to ignore the shadows instead of fighting them.”

Linxel sighed.

Erick waited.

Linxel said, “I will need to think on this. Give me three hours, then I wish to speak with you again.”

Erick nodded. “I can do that. But before this conversation ends, know that I am very willing to help you search for the fake people among you.” He asked, “Would you like to talk a bit about that?”

Linxel breathed deep, his massive chest expanding his leathers, as he tilted his head back and stared briefly at the sky. “I can see why you suggested a Privacy spell.” He turned back toward Erick, and said, “I would hear how you would assist in a counter-hunt.”

Erick nodded, then began, “I can Scan where people have been before, and it is through this method that…”

Conversation continued. Linxel listened. He asked questions. Erick informed the man of how some of his other counter-Hunts went, before going on to explain how he would want to implement such an action among Clan Green Grass, and others.

By the end of it, Erick understood that Linxel was not happy, but it was the sort of unhappiness that one got when they saw a terrible thing looming ahead of them, and they were unsure of how to proceed, though they knew they had to. It was an unhappiness that many warriors, mages, and warlords were accustomed to feeling. It was just another day on Veird.

The conversation wrapped up from there, with Linxel going back to his clan and Erick taking back the chairs and perch back with him, for now. He’d bring the furniture back in a few hours to have another conversation with the warlord, but until then, he had other people to meet.

- - - -

The caravan was underway with Erick’s yurt rolling alongside on the eastern flank of Clan Pale Cow. He had returned to his captain’s chair where he could oversee his summoned cows as they plodded along, matching pace with the rest of the caravan. He was proud of that spell; those cows barely needed any instruction at all beyond the initial ‘Keep pace with the rest of the caravan’. They wouldn’t listen to anyone else, though, and that was kinda funny.

Urshao, the young man from last night who asked Erick about magic, thought the cows were marvelous miracles. He had come aboard at an invitation from Erick and now he sat on the chair opposite of Erick’s own, staring at the cows, trying to understand them.

He was mostly just working up the courage to speak about magic, though. They had gotten through the pleasantries, and now they were stuck here.

So Erick prodded along the conversation, “You’re looking for magic tips, correct?”

Urshao whipped his head around to look at Erick. He went, “Uh. Yes? Sir?”

“Do you plan on harming other people with magic?”

Urshao startled again. And then he forced himself to calm down. He spoke clearly, “Only if those people threaten me or my people.” He deflated a bit. “The main threat is always monsters, though, and if people actually threaten us then Koori or Ibahka or any of the cowherds would step in and take care of the problem. I just need to be able to tow my own weight, sir, and magic is how I want to do it because… Because I went for Scion of Focus when I was young and dumb. I didn’t even go for Balance.” The blood drained from his face, as he said, “I made a mistake and I’ve never been able to fix it.”

The kid wasn’t lying. Good. He passed the first hurdle, and then he went on to pass a few more hurdles beyond that first one.

Erick relaxed. “I wish to have the rest of this conversation in private. Do you mind?”

“Not at all, sir! Do what you must!”

With a thought, a [Sealed Privacy Ward] blossomed around the space. The exterior world remained visible, but anyone looking in would only see empty chairs. If observers used a magic sensing spell they would see a white sphere, which indicated something was happening here, but there was nothing that Erick could do about that right now.

Urshao looked around, his eyes going wide as his heart slammed a harsh beat inside his chest. He was not only nervous, but giddy with excitement.

With a tempering voice, Erick asked, “How do you normally go about making magic?”

“I’ve got—” His voice cracked. Urshao continued, “I’ve got Mana Altering and about half of what a man needs to get into arcanaeum, but… Not the full set. That was another mistake I made.” Urshao deflated. “I don’t expect to be able to defend from a Shade, but I want to be able to make a [Fireball] that doesn’t cost three hundred mana and only does Willpower in damage.”

“Why haven’t you joined Speaker Yorila’s yurt? Even if you are in an orthodox clan, you still have a magic teacher.”

Embarrassed, again, Urshao said, “I don’t have leave to tutor under Speaker Yorila. She’s only allowed three apprentices and I aged out of every opportunity I had with her. I was just never good enough.” He looked to Erick with hope in his eyes. “I could abandon my home and travel to Songli and maybe join their army, but… I want to be here, at home, to help my family. They’ve supported me and my decisions all this time and I have to support them, too.” He added, “I’m good with [Grow], though, which is the usual thing I do; [Grow] foods for everyone and treats for the cows, too.”

Erick had been evaluating the young man using [Soul Sight] and [True Sight] and all of his Perception-enhanced skill, this entire time, exactly as he had done with Warlord Linxel. Urshao was alright. A bit sad. A bit lonely. A bit ostracized. But he was more or less exactly who he appeared to be.

Erick decided to help. He asked, “How good are you with wardlights?”

“Oh…” The kid’s face fell. “Not very. We don’t use those around here.”

“Let’s start smaller, then. How do you put together your spellwork?”

“Uh. Visualization and casting the spells at the same time, with an intent toward the desired outcome.” Urshao tentatively asked, “Same as everyone?”

“Have you ever heard of gridwork?”

“… Never?” Urshao looked up and away, thinking. He turned back, saying, “Never heard of it.”

The lesson on gridwork lasted a good 45 minutes. Toward the end, Erick had Urshao conjuring wardlights that showed, in a very scribbly sort of way, how to make a [Fireball]. To make sure that the kid took the lesson home Erick grabbed a pebble from the ground outside and attached to it a simple, by-the-book [Fireball] grid of his own working. The boy took the wardlight like he was accepting a great treasure.

Erick sent Urshao off with a pat on the back, saying, “Good luck. Don’t blow up anything that you don’t want to blow up.”

Urshao solidly said, “I thank you for your help. I will never abuse this trust and power. If I am ever able to repay you, I will.”

Erick smiled at the earnestness in Urshao’s expression, saying, “Just don’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it.”

Urshao bowed. Erick canceled the Privacy around them, and then Urshao left, hopping off of Erick’s yurt, to run back to his own yurt where he lived with his parents. He’d be okay.

Erick moved on.

He sent Ophiel over to Speaker Yorila’s yurt and invited the woman over to his own.

Yorila arrived with a smile on her face, and a bottle of wine in her hand, saying, “Welcome to Clan Pale Cow, Archmage Flatt; Erick.” She handed over the bottle, saying, “This is for you, but for later, if you wish. For now, I only wish to know if your needs are being met by the clan, if I could try some of that coffee that I heard you like, and if you wouldn’t be opposed to ending some long-standing threats both monstrous and animal that exist here and there upon the plains.”

Erick smiled as he accepted the bottle, saying, “I would be happy to take care of some threats. I’d like to ask you about some other clans out there, too. Please, sit, and let us talk. Do you wish for a Privacy?”

Yorila sat down saying, “Oh no no no. No need. We’re far enough away from the clan, and truthfully, I get a kick out of teasing my people with ~scary magic~ Ha!”

Erick laughed, and sat down across from the old woman.

Teressa served them coffee.

Yorila spoke of large, worm-like animals that lived deep within the ground, which only came up when herds of cows trampled along, to gobble up cow and man alike. She spoke of airborne threats that lived far up in the clouds, but which dropped down invisible threads that snagged upon any living thing and yanked those meals high into the sky. There were elementals made of stone, each the size of a small mansion, that lifted from the ground like great hiding spiders to chase down whatever had disturbed them, and from which clans had to run, but from which some always failed to escape.

Erick found them all. He found more than Yorila expected, too.

In a short hour, many outsized threats were ended. Traveling along the grass was made that much safer.

The conversation moved on to other clans and of face stealers, and of how justice was carried out when Pale Cow found face stealers amongst themselves.

Yorila said, “The problem with face stealers is that they are so very good at hiding, and barely anyone knows what to actually look for. Some clans make do with truthstones, which is a fool’s idea of justice. Some ask for Familiar Form lists, and this is a bit better. Clan Pale Cow does [Telepathy] testing, but only in the most dire of situations as what happened with Amasar and all the rest. That test fails about half the time because true face stealers become their stolen body. The [Telepathy] test works very well when you’re in an active face stealer situation, though, for it takes longer than a day to acclimate to a new Form.” She frowned, saying, “All of our face stealers were well acclimated.” She tossed that emotion away, saying, “The way your [Cascade Imaging] can track where someone has been and what they have touched is about the only decent way to actually track a face stealer. Though I am sure they’ll come up with some way around that. It might take them a dozen years, though. One of them will become a Particle Mage and then they’ll figure out your spell and then we’re back to where we were before.”

Erick said, “Maybe. Maybe not. Might take a lot longer than a dozen years for people to figure out.”

“Let’s hope so.” Yorila breathed in, smiled, and said, “This was a very nice talk. I’d love to have another talk with you when I have some other problem that needs solving, or if you’d like to talk about the weather sometime— Ah. That was a saying, not a specific ask toward your magic. Anyway.” She stood. “Thank you for killing those threats, Erick.”

Erick stood with her, saying, “Anytime, Yorila.”

Yorila hopped off of the yurt and raced toward Clan Pale Cow in the distance, moving like she wasn’t one of the oldest women in the clan.

Erick went back into his yurt, into the safety of [Prismatic Ward], and then he sent Ophiel out to check on Clan Green Grass. Linxel might be ready with an answer by now.

- - - -

White light flickered high above the Twin Rocks. Three Ophiels stepped onto the air, two of them carrying chairs, one of them carrying a perch. Down below, Clan Green Grass was exactly as Erick had left it. He had his Ophiel descend to the prearranged spot, next to the large rocks.

The clan instantly recognized Ophiel’s arrival.

The thing wearing Linxel’s body came out of his yurt and went to Ophiel.

When the face stealer came near, he said, “Our deals are done. I have decided against seeking your assistance against Clan Pale Cow’s Integration schemes, for I have decided to block your clanfriend status with the Elders of Ooloraptoor. It shouldn’t take much of a debate to get your participation blocked. Goodbye.”

And then he turned and left.

Erick had to hand it to the impostor. The manner of voice was the same. The straightness of Linxel’s back was the same. The man was physically and emotionally as large and as powerful as he had been before.

The soul was a different color, though. Not much different. But different enough. Instead of being dark blue, it was just blue. That, by itself, was not enough to mark the man as fake. Maybe someone just soul-fucked him between then and now—

Hopefully someone just soul-fucked him! That would make the sudden hole in Erick’s heart feel less like a sudden abyss, and more like a temporary problem.

—But Erick tried to [Telepathy] the man, and all he got back was static.

Erick came back to himself and looked to Poi, who had such a terrible guilty look that Erick could only put two and two together, to arrive at the doorstep of a horrible truth.

As the impostor walked away, Erick realized he likely would have done something to ‘Linxel’ had he had full control of his emotions, but he did not. He decided to take a minute to think about what he was going to do before he decided to do it. ‘Linxel’s yurt was only 50 meters from Ophiel. The killer was eminently reachable. He would keep for a while.

Erick could call out to him right now and drag him back for more talking, too.

There were a lot of options, right now.

But Linxel was already gone.