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The sun set, the sun rose, and Erick had meetings when he could.

Talk to this person over here, look over this paperwork there, approve or deny these various actions happening in these and those general vicinities. Etcetera, etcetera. Shadelings were active in the morning and the evening, though, and much of the city ran on those time tables, so Erick’s initial plan of ‘working on the city in the morning, and then working on his own stuff in the evening’, rapidly became ‘working on the city in the morning and the evening’, with very little time to pursue his non-city related goals. Like the pursuit of magic.

Erick had, after a talk with Poi, imagined that he would have a great deal of free time, and that most of the city would be run through Mephistopheles, Justine, Ava, Valok, Slip, and Zaraanka. And that was exactly how everyone else expected it to work out, too.

And it did, somewhat.

During the three hours in the middle of the day when the shadelings were usually asleep and everyone else was on break, or having lunch, Erick was able to work on his ideas of a [Cascade Imaging]. That particular magic was nowhere near being ready for creation, though, for Erick needed a lot more experimenting with [Identify] in order to understand how to best use that sort of spell, and time was not something he had in abundance, at all.

There were meetings with O’Lark, who was a delight, but he took up time.

Mephistopheles presented Erick with paperwork for the Guilds, of which the Mage Guild was the only one willing to actually come to Candlepoint, and then only if they got their own space outside of Candlepoint itself. That paperwork took time.

The Wayfarer’s Guild was currently stonewalling Erick, but it still took him five hours of careful, calm talk with various representatives in other cities of the Crystal Forest for him to understand that. Those people mostly ran from him the second they saw Ophiel approach, which was (somewhat) understandable, but even the people willing to sit at their tables, shaking in their seats as they spoke with him, were only willing to hand him paperwork and ask him to fill it out. Now if that paperwork ever got read? Erick had no idea.

Erick would have gone to Spur’s Wayfarer’s offices and talked to a (formerly) friendly face, but after ten minutes of trying to talk to someone there, Silverite had asked him to not show himself in any way, and he respected that request. (Kiri was still casting [Control Weather] over there, though, also as requested. It was a bit of hypocrisy, but it was also a degree of separation between him and his apprentice. That apparently counted for a lot.)

He still tried tracking down Apogee, the previous guildmaster of the Wayfarer’s Guild of Spur, and a planar himself, but Apogee was very good about never being anywhere Erick looked. Erick still left Apogee a note at his farm by Spur’s lake. Maybe he would get a response? Probably not for a long time, though, if at all.

And then there were even more talks of the building of House Benevolence, as asked for by Erick, and dreamed up by O’Lark. Those needed a few revisions. No, Erick was not going to have his House be a giant, kilometer-tall tower; a monument to power with room for thousands of guests and three times as many servants. No, it would not be a cozy castle, either, or a collection of castles. Jane kinda liked the idea of several castles, each connected by [Gate]s, and so did O’Lark, but Erick nixed that idea as overly complicated, and he didn’t want people to think that he could trap them somewhere they could not leave. If there were [Gate]s in his eventual House, then they would be kept to a minimum.

In talking with O’Lark about a House, Erick fell back on the idea of a clan mountain, but something smaller. Maybe a hundred meters tall and twice that wide, with several buildings separated by the various alliances Erick had gained so far. A place for the dragons, a place for the wrought, a place for himself in the middle, perhaps. A large area for gatherings and maybe a food court to support those gatherings. Erick also spoke of the Rotunda, which was like stadium seating at an arena, but going up and down with no regard for the actual arena floor, and where dragons of all kinds spoke to each other from across the way. Erick wasn’t going to have any full-size dragon areas, though, but he would very much want to make everything comfortable for orcols to walk around in, at least. O’Lark had some great ideas after that, but he also had questions, and so Erick started making some lightsculptures of various designs.

O’Lark was instantly thrilled that Erick could conjure such great models, and so quickly, too. This changed the dynamic of their meetings, and they became longer, and more detailed.

For O’Lark asked after the architecture of Earth.

One conversation turned to two, and then to three, with Erick having to end the third one prematurely, because someone from Treehome had just delivered some paperwork at his temporary offices, and they were waiting to have a word. The deliverer was Bayth, Archmage Syllea’s lifelong friend. O’Lark managed to extract a promise of more talk of Earth’s architecture, which Erick was glad to give him.

The conversation with Bayth went fast, for she was just there to deliver a message. Treehome and Syllea were in a ‘wait and see’ situation. As soon as Erick got proper offices up and running, they would want to talk to him in a more dignified manner, with diplomats and receptions.

Time passed, and workloads increased.

And then seemingly suddenly, Poi informed Erick that the wrought lands had finally been completed to O’Lark’s and King Alfonin’s specifications, except for the addition of three more Gates. Erick happily granted that request, and soon, there were four Gates, lined up in a row from east to west, spaced out about a hundred meters from each other, directly south of the wrought lands.

Those Gates formed an Abyssal, ethereal wall at their backsides, with 8 meter wide square holes in that wall. Each Gate led to a corresponding space in Yggdrasil’s cavern on the other side of the world, and a few thousand kilometers below the Surface. That space down below had been transformed, as well, from a mere coast, to a whole little ‘town’ made of white stone and transfer stations. The tunnel which led to the embassy had been widened to a hundred meter arch, with the road paved white and allowances made at the embassy courtyard for people to come in with wide loads on floating stone barges. Transferring massive loads was easy in the Underworld, for when stone barges got large enough, they naturally floated. Actually transferring those barges to the Surface would have been a logistical nightmare, if not for the fact that [Gravity Ward] was an easy solution to the return of ‘proper’ gravity.

There was even talk of opening another tunnel into Yggdrasil’s cavern, to more easily transfer goods. Erick was asked not to venture into that land, though, because people were still scared of him.

He was welcome in Gate Town, though, which is what they were calling the direct other side of the Gates at the Gate District, but no one actually lived in that Gate ‘Town’, because it was a place meant for work and security. Not actual living. The whole thing reminded Erick of an airport terminal, but with the destination being one of four holes in the world which connected to the Surface on the other side of Veird.

After the Gates were laid, and King Alfonin declared it good, there was a small social gathering at the Wrought District of the Gate District to commemorate the completion. Erick was invited, and he attended.

It was a decent gathering, but mostly because Tasar and Riivo had shown up alongside King Alfonin and they wanted to talk magic instead of paperwork and propriety. For the first time in days, Erick was finally able to spend some time relaxing, talking of magic with people who knew more on the subject than himself. But, seeing as how this was a political party, there was a bit of politics happening too; mostly in the form of which runic defenses they were going to put up in both Gate Town and the Wrought District, now that they were physically complete. Erick enjoyed that conversation too, though, for he was planning on doing some of the same defenses that they were, and he wanted to know how they were going about doing it on their lands.

Riivo said, “Anti-[Stoneshape] magics, mostly. While some of our assets have similar spellwork to your [Aura of Unmoving Stone], we found that requiring that level of magical skill over a large array of differing soldiery is asking too much. It is a rare type of person who can cast a kilometers-wide suppression aura.”

“But what if you just use [Renew] alongside the runic inscriptions for your own [Aura of Unmoving Stone]?” Erick said, “That’s what I plan on doing. Maybe a two or three layer process, where I put the [Aura of Unmoving Stone] on a centralized anchor that is hidden behind illusions, while I set up a [Renew] icon in the walls of a house. This way, the occupants can just use the [Renew] framework and they don’t have to interact with the emplaced magic at all.”

Sitnakov interrupted the conversation as he handed Erick a beer, smiling as said, “Your daughter gives a mean double left hook.”

“Oh yeah?” Erick grinned, taking the beer and thanking Sitnakov, then saying, “I saw your fight today. You both went too easy on each other.” He glanced over to his daughter, saying, “You didn’t even use your big tarantula form.”

Jane shrugged. “There’s time enough for all that eventually.”

“Couldn’t get too worked up.” Sitnakov said, “Never know who might be dropping in for visits.”

Tasar brought the conversation back to magic. “Yes. You never know, which is why I think this idea of a runic renew tablet is a bad idea. Someone could just steal it and use it for whatever nefarious means they desire.”

Erick did not sigh, or call out Tasar’s paranoia, for she was probably right. “You’re probably right. But [Renew] is coming out eventually. Someone is going to put that into an item— Actually. Let’s have this larger talk about security through obscurity. I’ve been meaning to discuss the subject with you, for I don’t believe that—” Ophiel pinged him with a problem. Erick glanced away, saying, “One second… Okay.” He came back. “It appears that I have to go back to work. Nothing big; no actual worries. I would love to have this conversation at another time, though.”

Sitnakov frowned. “But the party just started! Gods, you’re as bad as my father.”

Alfonin laughed loudly.

Sitnakov morphed his clothes from party attire to guard attire, while Poi and Teressa got up from the table set aside for them and some other guards. Jane and Kiri were between the banquet and their seats, and both of them looked at the food on their plates and had a moment of ‘ah, dammit. I wanted to relax and eat’.

“I’ll try to make it quick,” Erick said, as he rose from his own seat. “Jane. Kiri. You two can stay if you wish. It’s just some paperwork delivered by Mage Bank’s representatives. With any luck, we should have a bank in town soon.”

Alfonin smiled, saying, “You could have had Geode Bank already.”

“I’ll be expecting paperwork for them too, and soon,” Erick said, and then he left the party.

Three representatives waited for him at his temporary offices. It was Mage Bank, or rather, the Mage Guild, and they wanted a plot of land in the Gate District. The speakers for the guild were polite, professional, and completely terrified. They spoke in short sentences and repeated information to ensure that everyone understood what was happening. They also spoke how not a single one of them was high up on the chain of command, but that the Headmaster was getting angry at them for delaying their response this long, and would Erick please excuse the delay in response.

Erick excused the delay, of course, trying to be as accommodating as he could.

After an hour of talking of small and large items of importance, the three representatives finally began to thaw a little. And since the party was still going on at the Wrought District, Erick invited them to join.

“No. No thank you. Archmage.” The lead representative, a human man by the name of Tonide, said, “Your hospitality is appreciated, but we have covered everything we wished to cover, and we simply must be returning to our offices on Oceanside. But just so we’re on the same Platform… You agree to a plot of land for us. You agree to possibly help us with [Gate] connections to our Underworld offices, with payments for that service to be decided upon by larger forces than we three underlings. You agree to all the normal operation protocols of Mage Guild, and Mage Guild affiliates. You agree to provide sanctuary from common exterior and interior forces that a guard would normally protect against, as stated under Common International Incorporation Protocols and Purposes, which include, but are not limited to…”

Erick nodded along, listening to the man repeat what he had already said several times before. When it was over, Erick said, “As long as the Mage Guild and Exchange you set up in my lands is as commonplace as what I have seen from your organization in all other parts of the world, I see no problems arising from any sort of normal arrangement. I agree.”

The three representatives did not relax, but they did deflate in relief.

Erick offered, “And since you’re in a hurry, would you like a [Gate] home?” It wouldn’t take but thirty seconds to get an Ophiel close enough to cast a [Gate] near Oceanside.

“We are not going directly to Oceanside, but we appreciate the offer, and your hospitality. We should have a preliminary office up in a week.”

Erick frowned a little, almost speaking about how a week was unreasonable.

But Tonide instantly started sweating again, adding, “Or three days.” Softer, “Or three days.”

“Three days is acceptable.”

The Mage Guild people went wherever it was they were going, and Erick went back to the party. He didn’t get to have that talk about security through obscurity, though, or any real talk of any magic at all, for everyone else was busy, too, and they only stayed long enough to say farewell to Erick before they returned to Stratagold.

Time passed quickly, filled up with the minutiae of life and organization.

It was great, but Erick had absolutely no free time.

No magic research into a wide scale [Scry Deny], even if all that would take was a normal Denial tuned to [Scry], as he had done for his Privacy magics. The only reason Erick did not do that was because he was missing something crucial: how to exempt Ophiel and Yggdrasil from the effect. There was no experimentation with [Identify], or any other possible boosting magic that could apply to [Cascade Imaging], either. But also, there were no explosions anywhere. No murders. No unexpected intrusions into the surrounding lands. Meetings and paperwork took up all his time.

It was, all in all, rather boring to all onlookers, but Erick was in love with boring.

When asked, he would even say that he was having the time of his life. Fixing problems. Shifting priorities as needed to fix more problems. Helping people to help themselves. Laying the foundation for something great.

Laying the foundations for the Mage Guild District, and the Church District in Candlepoint, and Gate Road and even the foundation for his House, which would probably be in the center of Gate Road, and overlapping to both the north and south sides, so he could stand at the top of a tower and look down the row of Gates leading off east and west. Or maybe just west.

It was great! It was wonderful.

It wouldn’t last.

Either some sort of war would happen, and require him to respond with violence, or, best case, he would get through this current scramble for organization and finally hire some other people to do this organization for him. And then he would be adrift again! Or, in better terms: free to work on magic and more fun social problems.

… Or maybe not? He honestly did love this hands-on approach to building a kingdom.

But some free time would be nice. Eventually, perhaps.

As soon as he actually built his House, maybe? And people saw that he was truly open for business? Erick was fine with that, too. Whatever the case, the House was still in the planning stages, for O’Lark’s designs suffered from Erick’s talk of Earth sensibilities, like he was taking too many ideas and trying to work them all into the design.

O’Lark was rather more vehemently unhappy with his own work, having smashed a few models when Erick showed the slightest displeasure at them. Somewhere around day five, Erick was absolutely sure that O’Lark was making his designs purposefully bad, just so he could extend his talks with Erick, to learn all he could about architecture from Earth.

And, after Erick had a think about all that, he felt this was okay. Delays were fine, when the results would need to stand against a massive test of time. And so, Erick continued to talk with O’Lark.

They spoke of the movement of people, of planes, and trains, and automobiles, but also sidewalks and subway stations. Erick postulated how Gates could solve most of those transportation problems, but also how he still wanted people to walk around as much as they could.

Mostly, though, they spoke of important buildings from Earth. The United Nations building, with its large assembly hall which mirrored that of the inquiry boardroom back at Stratagold’s embassy. Erick brought up Frank Lloyd Wright and his unique architecture, which was surprisingly the only architect that Erick could remember in any good detail. Since he couldn’t give any more architects, he stuck to buildings, like the Chrysler Building with its arches and artistic lighting and metalwork, and the Taj Mahal, with its four surrounding towers and unique domes, all done in white, while the inside was filled with extensive mosaics. The Hagia Sophia with its bubble-dome exterior and ancient looks, and the Sydney Opera House, which was a successful experiment in large forms that more resembled nested open clam shells, than anything normal. Saint Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow, with the onion dome tower caps, and the ancient city of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, with its extensive bas-reliefs of different deities for each possible human action.

Erick gave examples of Brutalism, which he didn’t like; too solid and imposing. Art Deco, which was sharp lines and geometric styles, and Art Nouveau, which was for curves and nature-like stuff. Gothic and Federal, which were the usual styles of churches and governmental buildings, respectively.

The more they spoke, the more Erick liked the kooky Architect and his very enthusiastic ways. Erick didn’t rush those conversations, for he found that the more he spoke of what he wanted, the more he realized he was putting off the House creation, too.

He did, however, conjure a bunch of eternal stonewood and plopped it down in the general location where his House would go (and also where the Interfaith Church would go over at Candlepoint). Erick had even Shaped it a few times into some full-size mockups to have better conversations with O’Lark, but each time those conversations ended the same way.

O’Lark gazed up at the exterior of a boxy-type House, made of several towers and a nice central dome. Erick was almost happy with it. O’Lark’s casual observation began rapidly degrading into that of a man coming to realize that he was looking at shit.

“No No No!” O’Lark shouted, as he waved his hands. “No no no! This will not do. Tear it down and we’ll try again tomorrow.” He turned his attention to several of the small grey models he had brought with him, and with a casual swipe, sent the small stone structures to the ground, breaking them with the fall. “Break it all and try again tomorrow! I will have something fit for the ages tomorrow! Mark my words, Wizard: I will have this done RIGHT! AND! BEAUTIFUL!!”

Erick gave a casual swish of his own hands, the over 200 meter cubic building lost all cohesion, turning back into a piled-up mound of stone-like wood. He said, “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“TOMORROW! AGAIN! Tomorrow!” O’Lark went over and stomped on a broken model. “Needs more windows! … And maybe fountains— YES! Fountains!”

“I do like mosaic glass and water features.” Erick added, “Still haven’t decided on my heraldry, though. Maybe just a lightning ring of [Renew]? Not sure.”

O’Lark didn’t care about Erick's smaller comments. He just ranted about windows and water. His assistants, though, took notes.

And Kiri was still stuck upon watching the mound of stonewood settle back into a minor mountain. With a whisper, she said, “I’ve seen you tear it down three times now. Watching that much stuff move at your command still gets me, every time.”

Sitnakov laughed. “Eternal stonewood isn’t that bad to break out of.”

“I’m going to put an anti-Shaping magic inside that building once it’s made. Probably repeat that same anti-Shaping magic in a lot of places, too.” Erick said to O’Lark, “I’ve got other meetings. See you later.”

O’Lark wasn’t listening, though. He was still back to making tiny models out of stone, whispering about how this one would be better than all the rest! Just you wait!

His assistants, though, took notice of Erick and bowed. Erick took his leave.

Without explosions of any kind, there came and went day 7. It had been an Earth-standard week since Erick had reappeared at Candlepoint, and the city emptied of everyone who was scared of Wizardly declaration. It hadn’t been a Veird-standard week; that was 10 days.

And yet, before Erick knew it, ten days had passed.

And then, there went day eleven and twelve.

Far from his expected outcome of having to fight a war, he was instead learning how cities worked, and trying to build up Candlepoint and the Gate District to something resembling purposeful and cohesive whole. He had also met with some worldly powers, but almost all those meetings had been of the paperwork and messenger variety. No actual powers would come to Candlepoint, or the Gate District, except for the wrought from Stratagold. Everyone else was waiting and seeing. No one was moving or doing.

The minotaurs had turned especially insular in these past 12 days, with many of them moving into collective housing that was all near each other. They didn’t seem especially scared of the outside world, as they took a forward role in many of the neighborhoods next to theirs. They helped shadelings and otherwise with [Cleanse]ing or construction. Mostly though, they gave food assistance, for the minotaurs always cooked for ten or more people at a time, and they always had extra. It was odd, however, to see every single scattered group of minotaurs condense back into —and Erick hesitated to call it what it looked like, but he did anyway— a single herd.

Erick wasn’t sure how he felt about that instinct presenting itself among those Shade transformed people, but he suspected it was alright. If he were in their shoes, he would probably wish to live among his own kind, too. And besides, they seemed to be perfectly fine with their new forms, now that they had lived in those bodies for the last eight months. They were almost like shorter, bronzed orcols in that they healed through general Healing Magic, and without any lingering problems, like scars or wrongly-healed bones.

Still taller than every other non-orcol race, though.

None of them sought Melemizargo out for Reincarnation service, and Erick was absolutely sure that Valok had spilled the beans about Erick’s offer of that same magic, but none of the minotaurs asked him for that service, either. No one asked Erick for that service.

[Reincarnation] seemed to work quite well, though.

A handful of days after the dobers’ [Reincarnation]s, they seemed to be doing great, playing and hunting along the waters of the lake like a proper pack. In that time they had moved far to the east and south, and had encountered the northern part of Candlepoint. They didn’t retreat from that land of people, as Erick halfway suspected they would. Instead, they stuck around, got noticed by the farmers, and were reported to the guard. Slip went to investigate.

All the while, Erick told no one anything about the dobers; he let it play out as it would.

Two days and a lot of treats later, Slip had some happy dogs riding on his boat with him, barking at the fish under the waves, traveling down the coast to Candlepoint’s center, where they hopped off the boat and followed Slip to the guardhouse.

The Guard gained some new very smart watchdogs, though there wasn’t much for them to watch out for. They ended up getting a lot of treats, which seemed to suit them fine. They were healing, and doing well.

All of Candlepoint was healing, and it all looked to be healing well.

Even Princess Weilux, from the Wasteland Kingdoms, was trying to recreate what she had lost during Erick’s announcement of Wizardry. But she filed no paperwork at Erick’s temporary offices to seek his help, even after Erick had had Ophiel deliver some paperwork to her guards. Luckily, Weilux’s interests in securing power in Candlepoint went through Zaraanka.

Within a day of meeting with Weilux, Zaraanka was also trying to rebuild her empire as best she could.

But Zaraanka didn’t bring up anything for Erick to fix, either, at any of the few meetings she forced herself to go to. She didn’t even speak of her reconnection with Weilux. Zaraanka had a deep fear of Erick, and even talk of Mage Bank finally coming to Candlepoint didn’t assuage that fear, or cause more than a temporary lifting of spirits.

But when she was out of Erick’s direct sight, she was working a lot harder than most others. She saw to her fisheries, to bring them back into line, to cast [Husbandry] magics into the waters, and to haul in ever larger catches. She ensured that her ‘adventurer’s huts’ out in the desert were bringing in rads, and that her people had direction and goals. Zaraanka was recovering all that she could recover.

She even managed to reopen three different buildings on Market Street which had been shut down due to evacuation. A general store, a bar, and a fabric store; all three created through reorganizations of trading from the Wasteland Kingdoms, and through Valok’s adjustments of the Farms, and of the spidery.

Erick smiled as he heard her speak of those things in a meeting. “I’m glad to see the spidery is back up and being cared for. I was wondering if I would need to do some culling.” Erick gladly said, “But you’ve got it all under control. Thank you, Valok. Thank you, Zaraanka, for your hard work.”

Valok grunted and nodded. It was his usual response to not needing to actually speak.

Zaraanka’s cheeks flushed pink at Erick’s honest praise, which was a change. Usually she went utterly still when Erick spoke directly to her, but she knew darn well how much good she had done lately, both for the city and for herself, and this time she was glad that Erick had noticed her good works.

Zaraanka muttered, “I aim to please, Apparent King.”

Ah.

He still didn’t like that form of address.

Erick’s face was a stone mask, though, his grin plastered on and able to fool most people into thinking he was feeling what he was showing. He had gotten good about that in the past week, because the first time Justine had called him ‘Apparent King’ he had been visibly displeased, and that had not been good for the atmosphere of that meeting (even if Poi and Teressa were both smiling like madmen behind Erick at the time.) Erick had no idea which person finally spilled the guts about that particular form of address that Teressa had been pushing. It had to have been Jane, but it was highly possible that Teressa had put her up to it.

He could live with being called that. It was fine.

All in all, building a city was stressful, but it was not the sort of stress that Erick had been worried about. So far there were no assassins. No massive problems that he couldn’t solve with a small declaration to the right person, or with a bit of extra time spent talking. Nothing intractable. And while there was bureaucracy to go through regarding the rest of the world, everything Erick said in Candlepoint became law, and that was kinda nice.

Mage Bank was getting built in the Gate District, and those people were warming up to Erick. Tonide seemed to have gained a promotion to become that bank manager, which he was still very nervous about, but he was getting better about that, too. He was only repeating words twice in the course of a conversation, in order to make sure he was understanding Erick’s desires, and Erick was understanding his desires in turn.

Erick did not get much of a chance to talk with Songli, though. While Yggdrasil had been refilling the [Delirium Charm] box for the wandering soul kids, that box also served as a way to get a specific message to Erick, which he had read a while ago and decided to honor; “Please do not come here right now, Wizard Flatt. We are still discussing our response to your declarations. Proof of your own stability and sanity would go a long way to making those discussions fall in prosperous directions.”

It was what it was; whatever.

Nirzir was doing okay, though, according to Poi, though Erick got the distinct impression that she was staying away from Erick, too. Which was fine. Erick was going to honor the wrought request to not open another land to Gates for at least a month, and he hadn’t even gotten halfway through that timeline. Which was probably for the best. His days were too full to do much more than everything he was already doing.

Erick did do some investigating in those lands across the world, though.

The water spiders under Holorulo’s Yggdrasil turned out to be… something like people. They were very smart spiders who were not monsters. Erick was pretty sure they were all polymages who let themselves go a long time ago, or maybe they were tenth generation spider-born people, or something like that. They spoke Ecks, and they liked that Erick was a Wizard a great deal, and they were chased out from everywhere else, so could they please stay there?

Erick left them be. Yggdrasil appreciated that he could keep his small spiders. They were actually three-meter wide spiders, so not very small at all, but everything was small to Yggdrasil, Erick supposed.

All in all, the first 15 days since declaring his Wizardry were chaotic. Messy. Back and forth and complicated, and yet so very boring at times. Most people moved as fast as they could to get out of Erick’s way or to do his bidding as fast as possible, which was uncomfortable, but it was fine. Some people eventually learned to speak their minds, though, like Mephistopheles, and Justine, and Ava. Their contributions were invaluable.

Valok and Zaraanka spoke their minds to Mephistopheles and Justine and Ava, and so they got their say as well, while Slip was nonchalant about everything. The Guard Captain had no reason to be worried, or overly active about anything, after all. Candlepoint was doing fine.

And yet, Erick was absolutely sure that if he wasn’t doing his best to stay on top of absolutely everything, something would have exploded somewhere. Someone would have attacked, or seen a vulnerability and exploited it, or done something else to fuck over something, or someone. But, luckily, Erick was a man who could be at least 10 places at once, and he was still getting at least 8 hours to himself a day, of which 6 were for sleep. A full 6 hours a night, just for sleeping! A miracle unto itself, for sure.

Erick could keep this up for months.

Poi, Teressa, Kiri, and even Jane a few times, began switching off guard duty after the first five days. Sitnakov was there all the time, though. The big guy could easily keep up with Erick’s hours, and it was kinda nice to have people be both terrified, and relieved, to know that one of Stratagold’s own was right there at the Wizard’s side. Sitnakov was almost as scary as Erick was to some people.

… Erick did not like being scary to others, but it was what it was.

Though it was a lot of work, it was good. It was busy. Mainly, it was bloodless and constructive. What more could anyone ask for? Erick was good with this. He was working way more than everyone else, and he was doing way more than everyone else, and because of that, Poi had asked him to slow down twice. Erick wanted to, but he had no delegation right now. Those resumes from Kirginatharp and the others were going to show up any day now, though, so maybe he could get some delegation soon.

Erick certainly wasn’t going to ask for anyone else to hurry up, though. All this work was good for him, for the more stable he made his base, the better it would be when the bombs started dropping.

For there was no way that it would stay this calm.

Sooner or later, something would change…

- - - -

Sitnakov was not happy.

As he lay in bed in his temporary home at the top of the barracks of the ‘Wrought District’, as Erick had been calling it, he finally came to accept that this assignment was boring. Boring was, objectively, a good thing. For the fate of the entire world, boring and Wizards went together like platinum and magic; a combination that made everyone happy.

Except for him, as he had expected to thwart at least one assassination attempt by now, or maybe even fight off a small incursion of belligerent incani or humans, or even a Shade or two. He was absolutely sure that Goldie was around here somewhere, but he had not managed to catch sight of her at all, and neither had anyone else. Now fighting a Shade might be interesting. Sitnakov had killed hundreds of their kind over the many years, but actually causing Melemizargo’s Clergy to band together was a recipe for a bad time.

And yet now, that Clergy was a fraction of what it had been before.

It was probably a good time to find and kill them all, but Sitnakov’s father and none of the other kings or queens of the Geodes wished to actually push that agenda. Perhaps a ‘live and let live’ could actually work? Sitnakov doubted it, but he could do as he was asked; he could fall in line with politically prudent decisions.

He needed to do something different, though, and so, he decided to call up his mother. Usually, this was an impossible thing while on assignment, but mom liked to be informed of her children, directly, when she could, and the Gate was right there, making direct communication a non-issue. So Sitnakov opened up his mind to the Crossroads.

Getting through the usual channels was easy enough, and soon, mom was on the other end of the line.

Queen Strelkova, mom, eventually answered with a voice full of good cheer, ‘Hello, Sitnakov! I was just thinking about you.’

Sitnakov got right down to it, sending, ‘He’s so damned boring, mom.’ He rapidly added, ‘This is good; I understand this. But he’s in meetings all day and night. He’s as bad as dad, or brother.’

Mom chuckled, showing rare, yet truly honest emotions that one could only show in a [Telepathy]. ‘You’ve gotten to fight that daughter of his, haven’t you?’

‘Yes. Jane is a fun fight. About twice as strong as Erick’s orcol guard, Teressa, but only because I’ve fought hundreds of prognosticators before and Teressa has slotted herself into an early-warning role. Less capable of actual violence.’ Sitnakov sent, ‘Though Teressa is probably among the top ten percent of prognosticators. She’ll become a powerhouse when she gets twenty more years under her Status.’

‘Odd. I imagined that you would have tried to be more in tune with Jane, but I sense that you’re more in tune with this Teressa.’ Mom asked, ‘Why is that?’

‘… Well. Jane will likely be around in five hundred years. Teressa… I’m not so sure.’ Sitnakov sent, ‘I don’t want to fuck up that relationship with Jane by coming on too hard.’

‘Erick has created [Reincarnation], though, has he not? Mana sense will likely stick around through that process, but [Polymorph] will not. Teressa’s return to power will likely be measured in hours, as opposed to months, or even longer, if [Polymorph] is no longer widely available, if Erick’s plan to transform the Crystal Forest actually works. Just something to think about.’ She asked, ‘Has he done much on that Crystal Forest front, yet?’

‘No plans for the Crystal Forest right now. He’s not even building up an army, or anything resembling one.’

‘That is a relief to hear. You know, I also heard about this business about these rebels from those Sovereign Cities. I was also delighted to hear that he has simply told them to go away.’

‘They didn’t manage to convince him to help them, but they were close. Erick was very close to getting an army, for the low price of supporting a war that he could win in the space of an afternoon.’

‘Ah. That is a bit more worrying, then.’

Sitnakov sent, ‘He’ll have an army of his own yet, though. Still have no idea what’s going on with Ar’Cosmos, either, but there’s surely some soldiery waiting to pop out of that shitty land as soon as… Well. I’m not sure what they’re waiting for. Haven’t seen Erick contact Fairy Moon or any of them, either, but he might be doing that at his home, out of my sight.’

With a concerned tone, mom asked, ‘But does he want an army?’

‘Not at all. I’ve asked him as much and he saw right through me, telling me that I didn’t need to worry about that right now. He said he doesn’t actually want a standing army, and that the guard is enough.’

Relieved, mom sent, ‘Ah. I still don’t know how to deal with everything I hear about that man, but on the whole, I think these are all good things. It’s good to hear from you, too.’ She chuckled. ‘And you can be bored for a while, darling. It’s much better than the alternative.’

‘I expected to kill at least one Shade or dragon by now. At the least.’

‘Probably best if you decide not to do that, if it should come to that. This is a growing enterprise, and we mustn’t despoil the field which grows the crops.’

‘I hear ya.’ Sitnakov said, ‘For all the boringness, Erick is growing on me. He seems to be doing everything he can to better the lives of these people who’ve crowned him and that’s respectable. He needs some delegation, though. Do you have any people willing to actually work for him? Paper shapers, mainly.’

‘I’ve got paperwork ready to hand over as soon as he gets a permanent House, and I know Riivo has the same. Do you think he could take that paperwork now?’

‘Probably a lot of people think the same. He should have his House up in a few days, as soon as he can settle on a design. O’Lark has been dragging out his good designs to make Erick tell him more about Earth, but that routine seems to be circling to a close.’

‘In that case I’ll send the paperwork for some paper shapers along with the next shipment of supplies to Ar’Kendrithyst, which is going about… As expected…’ Her voice trailed off as she neared a difficult topic.

Sitnakov didn’t want to talk about ‘Killzone’, either, but sooner or later mom was going to bring up the subject, and there would be no avoiding it. Sitnakov dreaded that day. She dreaded that day, too. It was good, then, that that day was not today.

Mom moved the conversation to a much nicer topic, ‘Read any good books lately?’

‘I have!’ Sitnakov said, ‘Teressa introduced me to a whole line of books from an independent seller in Spur. Apparently Erick wants to improve upon the printing press well enough to be able to keep up with Oceanside’s [Duplicate], which seems like a lost cause, but it is what it is. Those books are about…’

They spoke for a few hours, until the sun rose, and a message came through that Erick was coming back to the Gate District soon. Sitnakov wished his mom goodbye, and then he went to work.

- - - -

“I’VE GOT IT NOW, WIZARD!” O’Lark shouted into the cold morning air.

Erick had just stepped through a portal from his front yard on Yggdrasil’s bough, to the flat land of the Gate District. The sky was barely pink, still in the process of chasing away the soft blue twilight. Cold winds blew from the north as it always did.

O’Lark stood like a beacon of wiry green hope, radiant in emotion but not in light, with the mountain of white eternal stonewood resting beyond. Three rather large models made of grey stone hovered on platforms beside the copper wrought, while O’Lark’s two assistants stood resolute beside the old man.

“Do you SEE?!” O’Lark asked, “Do you see the splendor I have created?! One of these! One of these will surely be the best possible shape of your House! You will welcome the world in these lands which I have drawn for you, and through that welcoming, light the way to a better future!”

The man’s enthusiasm acted almost as a booster for the coffee Erick had already had. Sitnakov stepped out of the air to the side, simply nodding as he walked forward to take his place beside Poi and Teressa. Jane and Kiri were sleeping in right now, but they’d probably show around noon.

“Good morning, O’Lark,” Erick said, “Now let me see what you’ve done…”

Erick turned most of his attentions to the mockups, peering inside to see the interiors and the designs of them all...

And he was impressed.

O’Lark grinned wide as he saw Erick take in the magnificence of his creations. “I knew you would approve!” He slapped his own chest with both his hands, demanding, “Please! Please! Tell me which one is good!”

Erick grinned, saying, “I’m getting there.”

Erick gazed upon O’Lark’s work, and knew he was finally seeing some of the wiry copper man’s best work. He must have been working on these models since long before he ever met Erick, though there were clearly some additions here and there that fell in line with their various conversations these past dozen days.

Perhaps he should wake Jane and Kiri, and get their opinions? Or perhaps not. Both of them had already said that they did not want to choose what the House looked like. And yet, in private, Jane had said that she was partial to Art Deco’s hard lines, and making a solid statement. Erick recalled Kiri’s similarly private words that she loved the idea of a simple castle, but writ large. Also in private, but only because Erick practically had to demand her answer, Teressa had spoken of how much she liked the contrast of modern edges and nature, like how they had seen back at Arbor O’kabil’s hotel and central district. Poi only took a little bit of prodding to get his suggestions out into the open; he liked Oceanside’s cylindrical towers with their balconies everywhere.

None of them wanted to actually influence Erick’s decision, though.

Whatever Erick finally decided upon, he was sure that any of these options before him would serve him well.

All of the mockups had all the basics in common. They all had multiple floors, multiple wings, and interior spaces dedicated to obvious functions. A grand central meeting room, a throne room somewhere nearby, offices for Erick to gift or assign to others so they could fill them with their own work spaces, and many extra rooms for guests. Kitchens, ballrooms, and banquet halls. Hookups for an eventual sewer system, and contained waterworks for fountains and the like.

Certain things had been omitted on purpose. Erick’s own magic workshop would remain on Yggdrasil, and he would live offsite. There were rooms for a castellan, and for other permanent employees of the House, but like most people, Erick would be living elsewhere. He did have rooms for himself in all three mockups, but they were decoys. He’d probably put guests there, or something.

But the exteriors of the models, and how they were all put together, were all very different.

The first model centered around a grand central cylindrical-cone-shaped tower, in a land of smaller towers that all shared walls, like some sort of very tall bubble land, and which rapidly decreased in height and size the further one got from the center. Each tower widened out at the bottom, forming a stable base, while the roofs were all domed. Four smokestack-like towers held to the edges of that space, marking the absolute boundary of Erick’s House. It looked like a vision of Oceanside, but different. More mashed together, like a bunch of jello molds sitting right beside each other. There were even balconies here and there. Poi instantly approved, though he did not say as much. Teressa was similarly silently happy with it, though Erick could tell she was much more enamored with choice number 2.

The second mockup was an off-center rectangular-ish main tower of thirty or so floors, rising up from a naturalistic mountain. Several smaller towers of similar design to the large one rose here and there from the mountain, with skyways connecting those towers to each other. Most of the main, public structures were inside that mountain, with the towers themselves reserved for office work, while garden-like spaces on the ‘roof’, far below the skyways, were open for walking, or reading under trees, or whatever. The whole thing was a mash of naturalistic land and solid, manufactured lines, with the roofs of each tower beveled inward, forming glass walls that formed open-air restaurants for the people who worked in those towers (or whatever sort of thing Erick decided should go there; O’Lark explained, while Erick kept looking over everything).

The third option was a spire of white crystal reminiscent of a crystal mimic, or rather, a crystal agave, with a sunburst jumble of crystal at top, serving as the throne room. But instead of having a cascade of leaves around a central point, like an agave, the main spire had vertically-aligned ‘towers’ of crystal stuck to the sides of it, spaced all around the central spire in a pattern that spiraled down and extended outward to the main structure below. That main structure was essentially a dome of crystal spikes, set into a 500x1000 meter wide base of an Art Deco-Nouveau metal holder, like someone had taken the partial geode and wrapped it in sometimes-curving, and sometimes-straight metal. Under that roof lay all the workings of a very, very large House, while the House itself looked more like a gem set into a metal base, than a functional building. It was a work of art.

It was also mostly eternal stonewood, but all the crystalline parts were made of glass. O’Lark had included a lot of glass in all three of his mockups, but this third one had an entire roof of glass.

And Erick loved it.

The third option was fantastic...

But. No. Too easy to destroy, with the base of that tower being way too thin for its own good. Sure, eternal stonewood could handle that, and Erick could actually go thinner if he wanted, but… Well. He could replace all the glass with permanent Force, held intact and in shape through Undertow effects—

No.

… And yet, Erick liked the smaller ‘towers’ joined to the main spire—

But they were too separate from everything else. The main complex down below was like ten malls put together with a lot of flow between those malls, so that was good, but the main tower was even more separated from everything else. Erick didn’t want to have a throne room so high above everyone, either; that seemed to send the wrong message.

Erick turned back to the other two…

And he came back to the third.

O’Lark stared at Erick, saying, “I see you like the third one but something is wrong. What is wrong?”

“Initially, I liked everything about it. The style, the size, the organization down below, but the more I look at it… I can’t abide all that glass.” Erick turned to the first model, the one with the cylindrical towers. “I like this one a whole lot, actually, but it’s plain.” He looked to the second one. “And I like the square towers’ exterior spaces… But the crystal keep has the same sorts of spaces, yet inside, under glass. The cylinder-dome castle has everything I want and it even has those four towers on the corners, but it has no natural spaces, though I can just put a garden on the front side and the back side of the towers… And yet, I really like the straight and curly metal accents on the crystal keep, like it’s a giant gem set into a holder.”

O’Lark’s eyes lit up as he smiled wide, asking, “Are you sure? That those are the parts you like?”

Erick glanced at the man, and then stared at him. He was up to something. “… Yes.”

“Step back! And witness the power of my modeling magic!” O’Lark held up his hands toward the three models, bright copper flickers rushing up and down his deeply patinated arms, as he said, “I can do this twice more, but I usually get it right the first time!”

Erick stepped away from the models.

He could have glanced into the future to see some of what was coming, but he felt that would ruin the surprise. Instead, he waited, and a smile came unbidden. This seemed like it would be good.

O’Lark advanced on his models, commanding, “Watch this, Wizard! Watch what truly knowledgeable Book Magic can do!”

Glowing copper words poured out of O’Lark’s hands, like Ancient Script given form and function, turning into ribbons of light that smashed into the three different models, soaking in like water, turning grey stone into something more ephemeral. The spellwork did not affect all three models evenly. Most of O’Lark’s spells went to the first model; the one of conical cylinders and domes. A smaller fraction touched upon the crystal keep, while an even smaller portion traced along the natural spaces of the second model.

In a flash of copper, grey stone dissolved away from the second and third model, while the first became temporarily ephemeral.

And then a great shift happened. Copper light from model 2 and 3 turned back into words, tracing back to model 1. Erick caught sight of all those words as they turned into sentences, like clouds gathering, and then they passed in front of him like sideways rain, falling in graceful arcs toward their destination, the first model. Those words weren’t just Ancient Script anymore. There were snippets of conversations Erick had had about Art Deco, written in Ecks. There was talk of metal filigree, and water fountains, and words of stone and glass.

Like snipping bits of text from one story and plugging them in another, O’Lark placed intrinsic parts of models 2 and 3, into model 1.

When the magic faded what was left was a masterpiece, and two duds.

O’Lark breathed hard, but he was already grinning, because he saw the look on Erick’s face, and he knew he had done well. He laughed out loud, saying, “Normally I tell clients they got five minutes before I either gotta revert it or leave it like it is! But I told you I usually get it on the first try! AND MY RECORD REMAINS INTACT! YOU LOVE IT!”

And Erick did, but he was still trying to understand what had happened just now.

Models 2 and 3 had become… lesser. Less unique. Less polished. Like someone had rushed them to completion, trying to do in 5 days what they usually got 10 days to do. But model 1 had become a work of art. Something that a sculptor back on Earth would have spent years upon years putting together.

The original shape of model one remained the same; wide-base conical cylinder towers rising up into the sky, with the largest tower in the center almost as wide as a stadium, and smaller ones spreading outward from there. But now it had a square base, and that base expanded out to a scale-size 750 meters on two sides, and a scale height of fifteen meters, forming the first two floors of the building. That base sloped on the edges, and was riven with straight-line and small-curve designs, like an Art Deco bas relief of metallic angles and support. The original towers still only took up their original 500x500 meter space, rising to a height of 450 meters. This left a great lot of open roof space in the gulf between the edge, and the original buildings, and all that space became a land for gardens and water fountains.

There were even carved divots in that base which formed courtyards and side entrances around the original building’s entrances, allowing people to enter the buildings from well-protected ‘gatehouse’-type areas.

All of the central towers and the four corner towers gained bottom rings of even more Art Deco angles, and that theme continued inside, running along the base of all the walls in the main hallways. Those shapes seemed to resemble roots the more one got closer to the center of the building. Those roots came together in the assembly hall, forming an abstract design of Yggdrasil on the back wall—

“Oh! It’s Benevolent Lightning surrounding the entire base of the building.” Erick said, “Not just Yggdrasil’s roots. It’s both.”

O’Lark smiled wide. And then he sighed, as though relieved. “Yes. It is both.”

“I love it.”

“If you find something you want to move around afterward, you can.” O’Lark waved a hand, as though most of his energy had vanished, saying, “But that’s the basic structure, ready to be turned into House Benevolence.”

Erick said, “I love every part of it.”

O’Lark went to weakly slap the arm of an assistant, but he didn’t get very far at all before the assistant instantly conjured a chair. O’Lark summarily ignored the assistant as he sat down, taking a great weight off of his feet as he set his sight on the mountain of white eternal stonewood ahead. With a content voice, he said, “I'm ready for a show, Wizard.”

Erick smiled, and then he began Shaping.

Like a waking leviathan, the white mountain began to move.

- - - -

Erick walked down the main thoroughfare of his new House and was in awe.

It needed lighting, and Erick added some preliminary lights. It needed windows, and Erick Shaped them out of desert sand. It needed minor Shapings here and there to better come into tune with the vision presented by O’Lark, who was ten meters ahead of Erick and having a great big moment of his own. Kiri, Jane, Teressa, Sitnakov, and Poi followed in their wake, while O’Lark’s own assistants hurriedly tried to keep up with the old man. There were lots of sights to see.

Teressa saw the most of any of them, with perhaps the exception of Sitnakov; Erick still wasn’t sure how far the adamantium man’s senses extended, but they were at least the 110 meter range. Teressa was currently at 150 to 175 meters.

Erick was only at 75. But he had ten Ophiel! That helped a lot.

And as he saw his new House, from several different angles and from seven different sites, Erick was briefly struck with a happy thought that sent giggles rising up from his stomach.

He giggled. And then O’Lark giggled.

“I need some staff!” Erick happily announced.

“50 to 150 full time staff! A daily throughput of five thousand guests! A thousand other people! A fraction of a fraction of the embassy of Stratagold.” They reached the front foyer, and O’Lark’s voice rose to fill the room, “But still a monument to the ages!”

The room ended in a massive T intersection, with left and right hallways even larger than the front thoroughfare, reaching up into vaulted ceilings large enough to make a dragon comfortable. There wouldn’t be any dragons here, but Erick was not going to have any cramped spaces in his House. He was all about being open. At the center of this first intersection lay a large arc of a table, as you would see in the front of any large organization. To the left and the right were other such reception areas, though most of the actual receptions would take place in private offices in the various buildings all around the main structure.

Above that central, first table, was a massive rune for [Renew]; a nearly closed circle, but with two angles at the top, like an arrow turned in on itself. Or an—

Jane joked, “You could make that [Renew] look like an actual ouroboros. A dragon eating its own tail.”

“Nope!” Erick said, still smiling. “That would offend either the dragons, or Melemizargo, or Rozeta since this is all white wood, and I’m not doing that.”

“But isn’t this ‘ouroboros’ idea similar to your [Reincarnation] magics?” Kiri asked, her voice a small thing in the grand halls of the House. “Takes a person and turns them into something else that they already are… And you’re going to be using it on dragons anyway?”

Erick mocked a frown at both Jane and Kiri, saying, “You’ve already named me ‘Apparent King’. No need to go dragging this topic up for the fifth time in order to mess with the historical significance of [Renew].”

Jane smirked, shrugging.

Kiri, however, had a different reaction. “I think this ‘ouroboros’ idea is quite beautiful.”

“I honestly didn’t even consider an ouroboros when I was making [Renew].” Erick turned his attentions back to the room, and decided to head left, since O’Lark was already running down that way. Erick smiled and started to walk faster to keep up, saying, “The Assembly Hall is going to be wonderful.”

Sitnakov spoke up, “It’ll be nice if it actually gets used how you intend it to be used.”

Jane tried to return to the previous topic, saying, “This eternal stonewood has built-in illusions, right? Just make it look like an ouroboros to people who stand in a specific spot!”

“Nope!”

Erick rounded the bend and found O’Lark staring out at the central atrium. Erick joined the man at the balcony.

The central area of House Benevolence was a massive open space of eight different floors, situated in the center of the main cylindrical building. The atrium extended from the ground floor (though there were two more maintenance floors down below that) to an arched dome. Above that dome was five meters of solid eternal stonewood separating that ceiling from the direct offices of House Benevolence, and the meeting spaces of many of the main forces which Erick wished to invite to this land. Right above that, lay the assembly room, which encompassed most of an entire floor. Above that, at the very top of the central tower, under the dome above, lay the throne room and Erick’s personal offices.

This atrium here, in the center, would serve as a dining room like the cafeteria at Archmage’s Rest, or the eatery at Stratagold’s embassy, or the gathering space in the center of the Grand Wizard’s Tower in the Core. It would bring everyone together who wanted to come together.

All around this atrium, on this floor and on the other floors above, arching hallways branched out, leading to every other cylindrical tower in the House. The main offices of many different people would be in those main towers, adjacent to this central space, but even beyond those other cylindrical towers there was room to expand in all the other hallways of the first two floors, since those first two floors (and the maintenance floors below there) served as generalized office space that Erick would open up as needed.

Right now, though, there was no need to open up those other parts of the House.

House Benevolence was completely empty, and somewhat dark.

Sound whistled through the to-be-placed windows all around the top of the atrium, letting in the afternoon sun at a slant; an arc of light carving through the white gloom. It was, perhaps, foreboding, but Erick saw the future here in this House.

And especially here, in the atrium, where dozens of smaller businesses would be invited to open up in one of the locations Erick had carved out of these many floors.

Erick imagined a branch restaurant of ‘Meat! Bread! Cheese!’ over there in that location. A fine dining establishment in that bigger, more private location on floor three. A few places from Nelboor, selling rice and fish and various dishes with lots of sauces. People from every part of his House would come through here to eat, and to mingle.

That hallway over there led to the Benevolence Research tower. That other hallway over there led to the offices where Erick would put House Fae, House Death, and House Carnage. The wrought of Stratagold (and eventually others) could have that tower past that hallway on the very opposite side of the atrium.

“It’s beautiful,” O’Lark said, as he gripped the railing in front of him, steadying himself. “It’s magnificent.”

Erick smiled. “And it’s still alive, too, since it’s eternal stonewood. Fully capable of illusions! So let’s glimpse the future, shall we?”

--

Eternal Stonetreeshape, instant, super long range, 5500 mana

Warp an eternal stonetree into your desired shape or warp the illusions around a living eternal stonetree into your desired shape. Unreal control. Spell lasts 5 minutes.

--

Without waiting for confirmation, and as peoples’ eyes started to widen in anticipation, Erick cast a grand [Eternal Stonetreeshape], targeting nothing physical. Instead, he targeted the manasphere itself.

The entire House lit up like it was fully operational. Stained glass windows replaced the holes encircling the atrium. And then people began to appear, like silent apparitions. They walked this way and that, off to a meeting or to meet a friend or otherwise for lunch, down in the central space. Signage appeared in the air before the restaurants, and people started cooking at grills behind glass while servers handed out food to paying guys in suits.

The barest sound of susurrus filled the House, like the whispering of wind, but more personable.

For a little while, no one spoke. They just watched, and imagined.

And then O’Lark broke the gentle noises of the atrium, saying, “Thank you, Wizard. You can take it from here.” He pulled back from the railing, looking completely satisfied. “The House is big right now, but I’m sure you’ll grow into it.”

Erick asked, “Will you be joining me for the Shaping of the church?”

The wiry man’s assistants tensed, but O’Lark himself simply shook his head. “You’re doing good work here, Wizard… Erick. But I’ve faced the Dark too many times to go poking my nose into those shadows. I couldn’t stop myself here, but… You’ve got the plans. You can make adjustments as needed. You can make it work. But…” He looked outward. “I want to see this House without illusions, please. Once more before I leave.”

Erick Shaped away the illusions, dropping the room into shadows and the simple light of the sun shining through the windows, once again.

O’Lark nodded outward, saying, “It’s a stable construction. You’ll fix it up here and there as needed, too. Eternal stonewood is a great material. You could have made that crystal roof an illusion, yes? The design would have remained essentially the same.”

Erick smiled, saying, “No illusions in my Benevolence, if I can help it.”

“A good tactic.” O’Lark waved his hand at the atrium. “I’m done! Send me home, Wizard!”

Erick gladly did so, opening a [Gate] to the side that led directly to the cavern down at Stratagold, right beside all the other Gates. Soldiers on the other side stood at attention, but then they realized nothing was happening besides O’Lark’s return, and so they stood down. “Farewell, Architect O’Lark. It was good talking with you, and working with you.”

“Same! Same.” O’Lark walked through, followed by his assistants. The man and woman incani wrought both bowed to Erick as they reached the other side. O’Lark turned, and said, “You’ve given me a lot to think about! If you ever need another structure, or if you want a proper model filled with magic, let me know.”

Erick nodded, and said, “I will.”

And then he closed the [Gate].

Sitnakov said, “Queen Strelkova has some resumes she wishes to hand off to you, for your staff.”

Ah.

Back to work already.

Erick said, “I am thrilled to receive them, but I’m rather sure Kirginatharp has some to look through, too, and I think Ar’Cosmos has some, as well. That’s going to be a mess which I will be happy to untangle, but first I need to get the church out of the way. That will likely be an even bigger mess.” He opened a [Gate] to Candlepoint, saying, “Time to meet some gods!”

He seemed to be the only one not struck by a dozen odd emotions, like fear and reverence and fearful reverence.

Erick tried to assuage them with the truth, “This is likely going to end up in some massive problem, so be ready.”

To varying degrees, his family, and the hanger-on that was Sitnakov, steeled themselves.

Erick did the same.

- - - - -

On the northeast side of Candlepoint, there was a similar, but smaller, mountain of white eternal stonewood waiting to be Shaped into something more cathedral-like. Justine waited near that mountain, along with a handful of other clergy and people of Candlepoint. Mephistopheles and Slip were present, along with a few paper shapers from city hall, and guards from the guard. Every single one of them jumped to attention in their own ways as Erick’s lightning portal opened up a mere twenty meters away.

Erick had already had a few long talks with Justine about what was going to happen here, and she had already participated in approving the model made by O’Lark. That model, of course, had some missing pieces that were going to be supplied by the shadelings here; primarily Mephistopheles.

Who was the leader of the Cult.

He had not been the leader of the Cult of Melemizargo when he had revealed his Cultist tendencies back at that first meeting, over a week ago. But word had gotten around that the Cult was going mainstream, and so the various Cultists in town had crowned Mephistopheles their leader. But really now. He had probably been their leader all along.

Erick just let that happen, since nothing much had come of it.

At no point in time had any interactions between Mephistopheles and Erick changed, for Mephistopheles kept that Cult stuff under wraps. Here and now, though, it was time for something more serious, and ceremonial. And so, the cultist robes came out.

Mephistopheles wore black robes befitting a Priest of Melemizargo. A few of his compatriots wore the same. This was a test of Erick, actually, now that Erick looked it over. Would he let this happen? The answer was yes.

Contrasting him, Justine wore robes of silver and white. Her people mirrored her, though they wore more white than silver; they were believers in other gods besides Koyabez, the God of Peace and the Silver Star.

Erick stood tall, and regarded everyone present.

He spotted the grey stone model of the cathedral O’Lark had gifted Justine, sitting off to the side, and also the rougher-made additions done in black stone, no doubt added by Mephistopheles. It was fine. Or, at least it would be fine.

Hopefully.

Erick laid down the law, “This is likely going to get dangerous, for a full Interfaith Church has not been done since the very, very early years of the Script. All of those locations have long since been destroyed by myriads of different forces, or desecrated and enshrined by one side or the other. Every attempt to have a full Church results in the same destruction, either by Melemizargo, or Rozeta, any of the other gods we call upon today, but also their followers.

“There is a long bloody history here, and we are attempting to fly in the face of that history. To show something better can be made. Melemizargo seems less and less insane by the day, so maybe this will actually work this time, but he’s gone through various phases of lucidity before.” Erick said, “This is dangerous. Don’t forget that.

“But hope has always been dangerous.

“We hope for a better world tomorrow than the one we experience today. We hope, now, for our children to grow up not afraid of the dark, and for those raised in the dark to not be afraid of the light. We guard our hearts and yet extend our hands anyway, in the hopes that our hands are not burned in the offering. That we can lift each other up to better heights, and stronger, more stable tomorrows.

“It’ll be many, many years before anyone accepts Melemizargo as reformed, but if he’s willing to put in the work, then maybe all the people of the world may one day refer to him by a name that has all but been scrubbed from history; The Welcoming Dark.”

Erick ignored the small tears of joy, and of buried anger in the eyes of the shadelings, and in the eyes of those who were no longer shadelings. There were emotions on both sides, not that both sides were equal at all in what they had done wrong. He ignored the buried hate in Sitnakov’s gaze, and in the eyes of those who tried to stand well out of sight at the far, far edges of the land which had been cleared for the cathedral.

And Erick decided he didn’t need to listen to anyone else.

He had planned for Justine to say some words, and for Mephistopheles to say some more. But.

NOPE!

Erick began Shaping—

The crowd turned as the white mountain began to shift.

Immediately, Erick noticed a change. Magic flowed from his body like a brief burst of thick air, washing across the to-be-cathedral, soaking into the white wood and sending up sparks of Benevolent lightning. Those sparks grew and grew, and in a flashing instant, the mountain moved.

Spires ripped up from the white mountain like an explosion of crystal, forming towers flanked by arches and filled with spaces for massive stained glass windows. One central spire expanded left and right, forming hallways and a circling ring out back, where the gods would have their individual altars—

A land of black grew in the middle of those altar spaces, expanding outward, pushing aside and widening the original design into something larger, and more Dark. Melemizargo’s space became three times the size of any other gods—

Simultaneously, the central nave came into being, and became a vaulted ceiling fifty meters tall while the transepts and the main altar flashed into existence, and the exterior became something gothic and intricate.

A wave of power flashed out from Melemizargo’s altar in the back, breaking all of Erick’s control, and yet the building kept building—

Golden flames washed out from what had to be Koyabez’s altar space, followed instantly by divine fire expanding out of Rozeta’s nook. Gold fought with black for the briefest of moments…

And then black relented.

It was not a wrestling of power as Erick had thought it would be. It was a give and take. The Darkness backed off here. Koyabez advanced there. Rozeta's divine fire filled out this land over here. The various altars in back turned slightly more uniform, each one growing to match Melemizargo’s addition, and yet, Melemizargo kept his altar slightly larger, constantly…

Eventually, the gods stopped fighting.

Melemizargo got his larger altar space, which was like a small cathedral inside the larger cathedral, while all the gods moved on.

And the construction expanded. The main cathedral burrowed into the ground, forming lower floors, while the upper floors created themselves, or rather, some god did. The whole white cathedral was awash in golden fire, but each flame was slightly different. Erick could barely tell which magic belonged to which god, but he thought he saw Atunir in the construction of a vineyard on the lands beside the cathedral, while storm-tossed power created a fountain on the other side. An arena clashed into existence behind the building, perhaps the work of Sumtir, the god of righteous war, while the gates to a graveyard and central pyrestone appeared way over there, beside a now-apparent mausoleum.

Everywhere Erick looked, he saw the white eternal stonewood grow and expand, forming side buildings and housing halls and everything else that normally went with a church. He had not accounted for those additions, for he was only going to make the cathedral itself out of eternal stonewood.

But the gods had other ideas.

One god in particular had an idea that Erick wasn’t sure he liked, or not.

Melemizargo did not like everyone else creating without him. From his altar came lines of black, filling in the grout of the tiled floor, running down the baseboards of the hallways, edging out here and there in every place he could find.

Perhaps, most oddly, the gods let this happen. They pulled back their divine fire as the shadows came forward, holding to their own altars, watching the shadows crawl by. And the shadows didn’t try to enter those altars, either. That was perhaps the most odd thing; there had been no fight over territory.

Just an expansion, and an allowance for others to move as they were wont.

Over the course of thirty four seconds, which might not have been accurate for Erick was rather distracted that the magic had pulled away from him and been taken over by gods, the cathedral and the surrounding lands came into being. Stained-glass windows appeared, in all the rainbows of the myriad gods, but also with a tinge of black Darkness, even though there had been no glass in this Shaping. The vineyard flushed out with thick vines and deeply purple grapes, even though there had been no [Grow] in this Shaping. A small golden fire lit upon the center of the pyrestone in the graveyard, even though there had been no flames before. Rozeta’s library, where the clergy would keep books she had approved for extra points, filled with those books. A thousand other smaller touches of divine gold and dark black completed the magic here and there.

And then it was done.

Crafting his House had taken Erick the better part of the sunlight hours of the day, only finishing around four in the afternoon. He had expected this smaller project to take about two hours, and for some crisis to interrupt those hours.

… But then again, he was doing something rather religious right now. Usually, when one worked under the auspices of a god, those gods helped the petitioner to make their magic. Erick had even experienced this twice before, with the creation of Yggdrasil, and of the Crystal Star with his Blessing of Empathy. In less direct ways, this is what happened when he sang to the mana, and the mana responded.

Perhaps it was simply the severity of the divine actions here, in this moment, that got Erick thinking about such nuances of magic; as they tore away his spellwork and used it to their own ends. This was what clerics and other assorted worshiping people often reported when they spoke of the touch of the divine. Erick didn’t expect such an event to happen right now, but upon reflection, if nothing else happened, then this was a good outcome.

The building settled.

It was a white cathedral with black accents in the floor, in windows, and in the arcing roofs.

Erick was not the only surprised person in the audience.

Sitnakov went, “Huh.”

Justine rapidly decided to take hold of the situation, raising her arms to the sky, saying, “We thank the gods in all their glory, for this chance you are taking on us, and on The Dark One.” She lowered her arms, and turned to Mephistopheles. A change came over her, like a spring pouring up from bare sand. Divine fire tainted her soul as she spoke with multitude of menacing voices, “Do you accept the burden of cooperation? Of true coexistence? Or is this to be yet another trick to tear us all apart and drown our last world in your dark lies, Melemizargo?”

Mephistopheles’ eyes flickered brightest white, as the edges of his red skin incani body turned darker, casting him into shadows, filling him with power. The voice that came out of the man was not Mephistopheles’s voice.

“It is to be cooperation. My Cult that remains loyal will no longer pursue their usual goals of disruption, but we will still pursue our goals of true education. This world might be real, but it is still so very unstable. The next one will be better.”

“Will you assist us with dismantling those in your power who will not follow this public edict?”

“You would not like what would happen if I do that, for once all the current problems are solved then I will need to challenge this world in other ways, for light will turn to shades of brightness if left unchecked, and you are all unchecked.” Mephistopheles as Melemizargo turned to Erick, saying, “And the world looks to be getting a lot brighter.”

Justine stood tall, regarding Melemizargo, and said, “We disagree. But we will not fight about it today. Instead, we will protect this church, and you will do the same. It will be a physical covenant of our pact of cooperation.”

“Agreed.”

Divine fire ripped out and away from Justine, leaving her cold and vulnerable.

Darkness pulled away from Mephistopheles, leaving him smaller than before.

And then all that power settled into the cathedral, where it vanished into the altar rooms in the back, and into the eternal stonewood that made up the building.

“A covenant, then,” Justine said, though she was almost too weak to stand.

“A covenant,” Mephistopheles agreed. Bent over and with a hand to his knee, he was barely doing better than Justine.

Justine nodded, then turned to Erick. “The gods wish to talk to you, as you are able, Wizard.”

Mephistopheles forced himself to stand straight, then said to Erick, “The Darkness approves of your benevolence, and wishes you luck.” He said to Justine, “See that? ‘Wishes for luck’ instead of ‘to talk’. He’s a lot less demanding than your lot.”

“He’s also caused nearly all of the greatest tragedies this world has ever seen, so this wish is a lot less innocuous than you believe it—” Justine cut herself off. “I’m not fighting right now, Mephistopheles.” She said to Erick, “Our Apparent King, we are grateful for your magics, and for your benevolence on this afternoon. Please join us for a grand feast to commemorate the day’s construction. Everyone is invited, but you would be the guest of honor.”

The audience tensed, though not a single person in power was worried about Erick joining them for a party. They wanted Erick there.

Erick happily said, “I’d love a good feast. This is probably the best possible outcome, too, so it’s time to celebrate!”

The audience didn’t know what to do about that. But they would adjust.

Justine said, “We are pleased with your acceptance. Ever since our recent economic reorganization we’ve been feeding people every day in our food halls…” She smiled brightly. “But the gods are good, and the people who have needed our services have found their own sustenance, created by their own hands, and now, we have excess. We can have a real feast tonight, and everything will be alright.”

And it was.

Upon tables set in the front yard of the cathedral, Justine presided over a grand feast of thanks to the gods, in all their glory, and also to Melemizargo, though that second part was said much smaller than the first. There were smaller speeches by other people of the clergy, with Erick only really paying attention to the speakers for Rozeta and Phagar. Apparently, Rozeta’s library was open for all to read, and Erick kinda wanted to read some of the defining literature of Veird; a lot of it was actually fiction, which was a surprise. Phagar’s speaker directly called for an End to hostilities, and in a private aside to Erick, said that Phagar was waiting for him to ask about Time Magic.

So that was something to do, soon enough.

Many people whom Erick rarely saw attended the feast, and it was good to see them again.

Aside from some merchants and farmers, and other assorted people whom Erick never got a chance to interact with, the minotaurs showed up in numbers. Their appointed leader, Danarin, gave another small speech of thanks to Erick, that mirrored the one he gave months and months ago, at the start of the Worldly Path.

After that speech the burly man was much more personable, happily sitting with Erick to talk about everything that had happened to the minotaurs. Erick confessed that he had been worried about them since they did not partake much in city hall, nor did they ask for help with anything. As far as Erick could see, they participated in all the normal stuff that people do, like going to markets and buying from vendors, but they also did a lot of their own stuff. They were a bit insular.

Danarin smiled at that, saying that they strove to be self-sufficient. They were all Ar’Kendrithyst level adventurers before they were turned by Hollowsaur, after all. Erick was glad to see that Danarin and the other minotaurs had thrived under all this hardship, and he was even more surprised to see that Danarin had a wife now, who was also a minotaur. Danarin’s wife was a similarly bronzed but more curvy minotaur, who was maybe a week or two pregnant.

She already had absolutely massive breasts, though, and Erick could not help but wonder what that was all about. For a brief moment, Erick was worried about things such as ethical body modifications and soul work—

But then Danarin caught Erick looking and wiggled his eyebrows, saying, “She’s been such a great big blessing in my life, I sometimes think I’ve been blessed twice!”

Erick stared for a moment, then suddenly laughed, saying, “Congratulations on the kid, too! That’s a third blessing for you.”

Danarin paled. “Uh?” He looked to his wife. “Lilaria?”

Lilaria gave a coy smile, saying, “I wasn’t sure because I haven’t visited the doctor— But… I missed my period. Yeah. I guess I am?” She looked to Erick, and actually managed to hold his gaze for a moment.

Erick nodded. “I’m pretty sure, yeah.”

Two tables over, Teressa nodded.

Danarin, however, saw none of the other small nods that went around the gathering. He briefly went limp, and then he recovered. He smiled wide and happy, then rushed his wife and picked her up, spinning her around as Lilaria giggled happily. Danarin called out, “We’re going to be parents!”

Lilaria said, “You’re gonna be a daddy!”

“I’m gonna be a dad!”

Congratulations erupted from the crowd.

It was a good feast, with many small joys all around.

Erick was glad.

This whole ‘city building thing’ seemed to be working out.

As he sat back in his chair, there on that main table, Erick looked out at this small gathering of his people…

And he was happy.

Meetings with Mephistopheles and Justine and all the rest had been taking less and less time, as they got closer to being on the same page. The city was actually back up and running, and Ava, ever the barometer of luxury and ease that she was, was back to wearing a different fancy dress every single day. Zaraanka’s businesses were a fraction of what they had been, and almost all her contacts with the outside world had been cut, but her connection to Princess Weilux of the Wasteland Kingdoms remained open, and she was rebuilding. Zaraanka still couldn’t meet Erick’s eyes 75% of the time, but outside of his sight, she was working harder than almost everyone else to get back what she had lost, and to gain so, so much more. Valok was as taciturn as ever, almost like he had been with Erick when Erick first met the man on what would become the Farms of Spur, which was fine. Valok did meet Erick’s gaze, though, and he spoke openly when necessary, but that was about it. Whatever friendship Erick had with that man was gone.

But it would simply take time to rebuild.

And this was good.

Tomorrow, Erick imagined he could actually move onto other main projects. The city was healing, and would eventually be growing. The wrought district and the first part of the Gate Network was starting to receive various diplomats from the other Geodes, who were on their way to Ar’Kendrithyst. Erick was starting to receive resumes from Kirginatharp, the wrought of Stratagold (maybe the other geodes would follow? One could hope!), and the Mind Mages. He had even received a surprise missive in the form of a package of letters stuffed full of flowers and fae magic, listing out possible associates from Ar’Cosmos for him to induct into his House.

And now that he actually had his House, he could finally start building House Benevolence.

- - - -

“The main goals I have right now are to support and secure the Gate Network I have begun to create through book keeping and record tracking, with another major focus on security of all kinds. Most of the major powers will be allowed to maintain security of their own Gate sets, but I still need people to oversee those lands, and to check on those numbers coming out of those places, like the numbers coming out of Stratagold.

“Right now I have a small folder of numbers regarding what has come through Stratagold’s Gates, but I know that that folder is going to become a whole office, one day soon. I expect the same to happen from every single other four-Gate land I connect to in the future. I expect Songli to eventually calm down enough to talk to me once again, and to accept a four-Gate, and maybe Eidolon on the other side of the Letri Ocean will do the same, though I have never talked to any of those people on Nergal.

“Smaller Gate sites, which might happen here and there in the future, will need to be overseen by someone as well. I imagine that a portal from here to some future settlement in some part of the Crystal Forest will need to be a part of a network of such smaller sites, and be overseen by some generalized Gate overseer.

“Or something. I’m open to adjusting as needed.

“Longer goals include diplomacy with various nations in order to set up more Gates of all kinds, and in ensuring that longstanding enemies don’t treat this land as a way to invade others, or to start wars of any sort. I expect the people I hire to be able to speak with my voice in all of these situations, since I cannot be everywhere at once. What such actions look like, directly, is still up in the air, but it will probably involve Ophiel sitting on your shoulders for the first few meetings between important peoples, or whatever might happen, and then letting you take over from there.

“My current, personal goal, is to offload all this accumulating paperwork and organization onto other people who are responsible enough to shoulder those responsibilities. It’s a tall order, but it must be done, for I am creating something here that will hopefully outlast my own existence for many, many millennia. Eventually, I hope to teach others how to [Gate], so that they can take over some of these functions, but that is something best saved for ten years down the line.” Erick said, “Which is why you are here. You came highly recommended by Kirginatharp for the position of castellan, the overseer of my House Benevolence, and based on your resume and recommendation alone, you have the job… After some magics of mine, which you have already requested of me, and which would be necessary for you to actually fulfill the duties requested of you.

“But I have to know why you chose this path.”

In his offices at the top of House Benevolence, Erick held his first meeting.

Across the table from him sat an ancient greyscale dragonkin by the name of Zolan Goldbranch. He was an Oceanside native, and he was old. His eyes were rheumy and clouded, and he sat in his chair with a bend in his back, his joints knobbled with arthritis that could not be healed away. Healing magics could only do so much against the degradation of age, and Zolan was old by every single standard, except when held against the standards of immortals.

He was a hundred and thirty four years old, and he had run Kirginatharp’s estates for 85 of those years, only stopping fifteen years ago, which was ten years after he could no longer read printed words. He still had a good mana sense, though, which was now at a range of 20 meters, which had given him ten more years of time back then. But now, there was nothing he could do to stop the ravages of age.

And Erick was his only hope for a new life.

Zolan just sat there for a long moment, considering his words. The old man’s copperscale great-grandson stood behind him, a Paladin by the name of Zorik, striking an imposing figure with a barrel chest and thick legs, dressed in shining silver armor. He was a great contrast to Zolan. Erick imagined that Zolan had once looked like that, long ago, and yet here he was, now deflated by age.

And Zolan was angry at that personal failure. He was angry at the passage of time itself, or some other ephemeral concept he could not battle, no matter who he knew, or what powers those friends of his wielded.

Erick waited.

Zolan spoke with a quiet voice, “The Headmaster cleared your [Reincarnation] as capable of true soul healing only days after you transformed those dober dogs. Now, those dogs have another life ahead of them. I want the same.” With as powerful a voice as he could muster, Zolan said, “I am not ready to go into the embrace of the gods, not when everything is going to change right as I’m about to die. I had made peace… as much as I could, but then you came along. I have to see the coming worlds for myself, Wizard Flatt. I have to see it.”

Honest.

Driven.

Erick wanted to hire him on the spot. But...

“Why not go the [Polymorph] route?”

The great grandson briefly looked uncomfortable—

Zolan chastised the boy, “He’s talking about pretending to be another person. Not eating someone! Gah. How far the family has fallen out of magical traditions.” Zolan said to Erick, “I’ve never been good at lying about myself, to myself. I know who I am. It’s made certain things harder for me, magically speaking. I can’t do illusions. I can’t do transformations or enchanting. But I can do bureaucracy. You want to know how much money you’re making, and where the problems are, and to then know that I’ve already solved all those problems I can solve? I can do that. Or do you wish to know the numbers every day, and how they grow, and only to be informed if a real problem should arise? I can do that. I can make the ledgers of any business sing gold, and I know every single nation and many of the smaller powers out there, for Oceanside has been a magical and educational center of the world for a very long time, and I was at that center.”

“How do you feel about Ar’Cosmos?”

Zolan rapidly answered, “Terrorists and thieves, but if they’re truly sectioned off into their own slice of reality, then maybe that will change.”

“You’ll be working with them.”

“And I’ll make sure they’re not fucking you over in subtle, insidious ways, just as I would do against Stratagold, and Songli, and all the rest. So you’re aware: I consider most people to be decent, but nations are silver thieves and golden terrorists, because most nations have to be that in order to survive. The presence of actual powers adjusts certain metrics, of course.” Zolan said, “I believe you’re too trusting a good ten times over, but that’s been working out for you. For now. You can be the hope for the future, winning wars and ensuring overall security of your domain, but the rest of us gotta eat and make our own small homes in that domain, weathering the larger forces out there, and that is what I do. I deal with the minutiae and keep the silver thieves and golden terrorists at bay so that the heroes can go out and be heroes.”

Erick said, “I’m too trusting, eh.”

“I’m sure there’s lots that the public doesn’t see, so maybe you aren’t actually that trusting at all. But everything the Headmaster has divulged to me before I came here paints the same picture. You are exactly who you appear to be. A great big damned hero.” Zolan said, “Even discounting all the rest of what you’ve done, which is next to impossible, you’re a great man who managed to get all his major enemies on his side before he came out as the one thing they all hated most, a Wizard. And I want to work for you. I want to make this land the best it can be.”

“How do you feel about that, though? That I’m a Wizard?”

Zolan gave a toothless smile. “You are going to become the living, breathing treaty that holds this world together and gives us new ones soon enough, Wizard Flatt. It’s going to be amazing, and I aim to see that you aren’t burdened with paperwork while you’re off saving the world yet again, or deciding some important fate here or there. Of course, I will sometimes expect you to come down from your tower and solve various high-level disputes, and to give guidance when you deem necessary. But overall, I can run a kingdom, you can tell me what you want done, and I will get it done.”

Erick had a think.

Then he said, “I expect you as the castellan of House Benevolence to hire equally from Ar’Cosmos, Stratagold, Oceanside, Candlepoint, and anyone else who might happen to come along. You will probably gain a position of power relative to, if not exactly like, a governor of finance in a small court. Something like a royal court will eventually come along, though I will not call it that. Since you are a Knowledge Mage, I will expect you to become that again, and to answer all my questions directly, when I ask them.”

Zolan nodded, then said, “The sharing of knowledge is expected, but the only people I won’t hire are the Shades, or anyone working for them.”

“An expected caveat. I’m sure they’ll turn up sooner or later, though, and so if they speak to you, then just tell them to speak to me instead. They will operate outside of the system you will be placed in charge of.”

Zolan sat a bit straighter, as he dared to hope, and ask, “So I have the position?”

“You do.” Erick added, “But this [Reincarnation] you desire will cause side effects. Are you ready to hear them?”

Zolan breathed out, relaxing deeply. His great grandson, however, looked scared. Zorik looked down at Zolan, but Zolan waved a dismissive hand toward the boy, and the boy tried to calm down.

Zolan asked Erick, “What are the side effects?”

“Complete Status reset to level 0. No blessings, no curses, no boons. I’m not sure if godly magic persists through the process, but I’m reasonably sure that it will not persist.” Erick said, “You will no longer be a Knowledge Mage. While I’m rather sure that while you will retain your memories, your self, and some personal abilities, like mana sense and aura control, your magic will be gone. Fully gone. You will have to remake it all. You might even have to relearn mana sense and aura control, though knowing how will surely make the process simpler the second time.”

“Granpapa…” whispered the great grandson.

But Zolan only smiled. “I started out with [Identify] and a dream to know the world. I can do that again.” He nodded. “Faster this time, too.”

Erick pulled out a piece of paper from the side of the table, and laid it in front of Zolan, asking, “[Reincarnation] is rather bespoke, so I can do a lot with it, and I do mean a lot. I don’t want to get too into the marshes with options for people, but this is the basic idea I’ve thrown together since I made the spell…” He stopped talking because Zolan waved him off.

Zolan said, “I want to give you some advice before we get to that, and it will include the man at your back and how you no doubt desire I make certain promises under Mind Mage truths.”

Behind Erick, Poi just waited.

“… Sure?” Erick said.

“Have me swear an oath of fealty; not a simple promise. I would like in direct wording what I can expect from you, and what you can expect from me. If need be, I’ll swear it twice, both before and after this [Reincarnation]. But this is a big deal, and you are treating it too much like a business transaction and not enough like a true kingdom creation that it is.” Zolan said, “Everyone from people at my level to people I hire, roughly two levels below me, also needs to swear fealty to you, directly, and if it’s done under Mind Mage verification, then all the better. Other people of true power, such as archmages or otherwise, also need to swear fealty to you, directly, no matter where they fall on the organizational chart. When these people step out of line, those people need to be punished, directly, by you. People at lower levels of the organization will need to be punished by those who hire them, and so on and so forth, unless a transgression is bad enough to warrant your direct involvement. Delegation is important.”

“… Good advice.”

“… I see you are uncomfortable with this crown you have taken upon yourself, and that you did not verbally push back when I pushed forward with telling you how to run your own kingdom. I did not imagine it would be this bad, but it is both worse than I had feared, and not nearly as bad as it could have been.” Zolan said, “It’s not a bother now, but if you stop growing, it will become a problem.”

Erick chuckled at that. “I’m still in an adjustment period.”

“I can work with heroes like yourself. I can raise you to solid power. But first, all power in this Gate Network and in these lands you hope to raise from the sands of the Crystal Forest, must come from you, and you must actually declare it to be so. If people are here and not working for you, they are working for an enemy. Accept this truth, act in this manner, and everything else will flow more easily.”

Erick had a sad, yet accepted grin. “All rather pessimistic.”

Zolan nodded. “I am a realist, and I have seen it all, Wizard Flatt. The only thing I have never seen is an optimist make real, good changes in this world, but then again I have never seen someone quite like you, either.”

The more Zolan spoke, the more Erick got to know Zolan personally, instead of from his thick resume shipped over from Oceanside, the more Erick appreciated that this was who Kirginatharp had sent. There were a few other options for the castellan position, but not a single one out there had 85 years of experience essentially running all of Oceanside’s kingdom-level properties. Zolan Goldbranch was essentially the ‘secretary of the treasury’ of the Arcanaeum Consortium. Erick was lucky to have the guy, and Zolan knew it.

Zolan had all the right answers; even to questions Erick had not actually asked.

It was true that Erick was treating this more like a business than he should.

Erick had been entirely ready to hire the guy, and then dismiss him if he fucked up or if he was too much of a spy. But perhaps that was the wrong way to go about this.

Erick asked, “Do you, Zolan Goldbranch, consent to a Mind Mage overseen truth telling and oath giving?”

Zolan stared with cloudy eyes at Erick, and at Poi. Poi stepped away from the wall, to stand next to Erick, at the side of the desk. Zolan lifted his chin toward his great grandson. “I want to see this. Heal my eyes, and don’t give me guff about it.”

Zorik kept his mouth shut as he reluctantly put his hand on Zolan’s shoulder, then he said, “May Rozeta grant you Sight once again.”

Zolan’s eyes cleared in a flash of divine fire. He blinked several times, then looked to Erick and Poi with bright copper eyes, full of life, even though his body was failing all around him. “Do that too often and it works less and less each time. It’s good to see you though, Wizard Flatt.” He turned to Poi. “I consent to a Mind Mage truth telling.”

Poi nodded, his thick air tendrils touching upon Erick and Zolan. “Then may your words and intentions be known as false, if they are false.”

Erick rapidly pieced together what he thought sounded correct, cribbed from various oaths he had heard of here and there on Veird, and then he spoke with authority, “I, Erick Flatt, Apparent King and Wizard of Benevolence, demand your fealty, Zolan Goldbranch, for the power I shall invest in you is power you gain only through me. You will oversee my lands, my interests, and my people, as much as I appoint to you, growing and nurturing all under your granted purview as much as you are able, in good faith and without deceit. Should you fail, you will be punished based on the severity of your failure, but should you succeed, then you will gain as much as you are due.”

Zolan smiled faintly, his copper eyes shining bright as he said, “I, Zolan Goldbranch, grant you my fealty, Erick Flatt, Apparent King and Wizard of Benevolence. I will speak with your voice and do as you would command, with your power as my backing. I will oversee your lands, your interests, and your people, whatever you shall grant to me, as though they were my own, growing and nurturing all those under your purview as much as I am able, in good faith, and without deceit. If I should fail, I will be punished based on your sole judgment. When I succeed, I expect to be rewarded commensurately.”

Erick approved of Zolan’s adjustments, just as Zolan had approved of Erick’s own wording.

Poi pronounced, “All words spoken were truth. All intentions said were honest,” and then he retracted his tendrils of thought.

Zolan breathed out—

He coughed a little, and then he coughed a lot. Soon, he calmed, and he sat there. His breathing was labored, but not anymore than it had been before he had arrived.

“Welcome aboard, Zolan. You’re now the castellan of House Benevolence.” Erick said, “But you’re going to need a physical change for what’s to come.” He nudged forward the [Reincarnation] paperwork. “I’m surprised you made it all the way through this meeting.”

Zolan chuckled a little, then stopped himself before he started coughing again. After a moment he glanced down at the paperwork, and said, “I can’t even pick up that paper, or a pen to write what I want. Can’t hardly get around without help, either. That’s why I got my Paladin great grandson here to help me out. Zorik is a good kid like that. Only one of my family who was willing to bring me here to see the Wizard, and only because Rozeta was whispering in his ears. If I came out of this meeting with a failure, then I’d probably be dying in bed next month.” With a knowing glint in his eye, he looked to Erick, saying, “Some more advice is in order: The Headmaster expected me to get the job because I’m a sad spell right now and he guessed how you would react. He guessed correctly.”

Erick laughed, then he said, “When you next see Kirginatharp, you can inform him that yes, your advanced age and the fact I am saving your life has had a great deal to do with my decision. But you’re also qualified. You can tell him that I’m already fine with having spies in my organization as long as they actually work for me.” He narrowed his eyes at Zolan. “Which you will, right?”

“You’re not going to have any trouble with information leaks from me, Wizard Flatt.” Zolan said, “I’ll let him know what you want me to let him know, though.” He glanced to the paperwork, and his sight went sideways a fraction. Cataracts and some sort of degenerative scaling returned on the surface of his retinas, inside his eyes. “Ah. Dammit. There goes the sight again.”

Zorik said, “Sorry, grandpapa. I won’t cast that spell on you again. Not this week.”

“I know, I know…” Zolan said, “Divine favors are hard to come by for the likes of us secular types.”

And then Zolan just sat there, looking conflicted as he blankly stared at the paper in front of him. He couldn’t see it anymore, but that was hardly a problem.

He was reluctant?

Ah? Yes. He was. Odd.

The man had been vocal and enthusiastic about his interview and appointment. He was ready to take on the responsibilities of being a castellan for House Benevolence, and he had even been enthusiastic about [Reincarnation]. [Reincarnation] was one of the reasons he was even being considered for the job. But now they were here, at this moment of truth, and Zolan was struggling with overcoming some internal problem.

Erick decided to just ask the guy. “I didn’t plan on offering [Reincarnation] in order to get anyone to sign up with me, but it’s the only thing that makes you a viable choice for the position. And you want it, too. And now we’re here. I know you have the spells to fill out that paperwork without actually needing a pen, or actual sight to see the paperwork, so why this sudden reluctance?”

Zolan scowled a little. “Tsk. Fine. I’ll just say it and Zorik can be embarrassed. I want to be a demi. I wanna be fucking hot. And I want a big dick—”

“Oh grandpapa,” muttered the Paladin, his face heating up.

“— What! Nothing wrong with knowing what you want! I used to be that way until age shrunk all of me!”

Zorik continued to gain a tint of red to his face.

But Erick was already laughing. He smiled and shrugged, asking, “Any particular size of balls? How much girth and length are we talking here?”

“Ah ha!” Zolan said to his thoroughly embarrassed great grandson, “Now these are the important questions!”

“Grandpapa! That’s not!—” Zorik asked, “Why a demi? Do you not like yourself— This dick stuff is something you could get fixed at any proper Soul Mage and I know you know a few.”

“What!” Zolan mocked offense, “I don’t know any Soul Mages.” As a loud aside to Erick, he said, “I know Soul Mages.”

Erick chuckled.

Softer, Zorik muttered, “Asking the Wizard to become a demi is in poor taste.”

“Ah? Well.” Zolan said, “If that is truly the oddity here: That’s even more simple than asking for a big dick. Our entire family is demi if you take away the dragonkin side of things, and I’m tired of scales.” He reached forward with a bit of magic and filled out the paperwork in a flash of easy casting. “I am thoroughly embarrassed that my embarrassment over answering your questions caused any sort of stuttering at all, but especially here, at the start of our great House Benevolence, and especially with regard to telling you what you needed to know. It won’t happen again.”

According to his read on Zolan, Erick knew that such stuttering and indecisiveness wouldn’t happen again, so Erick smiled a bit wider, unable to contain his amusement.

He looked over the paperwork.

Ah. Well. This was a rather… thorough depiction of what Zolan wanted.

Zolan had filled out the entire backside of the paper with several detailed sketches of what he wanted his new body to physically look like, along with very small and packed print regarding his current personality, and what he hoped to maintain through the [Reincarnation]. It was all rather unexpected, but not actually unexpected at all, once Erick considered what the outcome of all this would be.

Then and there, Erick decided to improve his [Reincarnation] paperwork to at least ten pages long, instead of this single page inadequacy.

Erick rapidly rid himself of his own funny emotions, and asked, “Shall we begin?”

Zolan moved his arms a little, smiling while asking, “Do I need to remove my clothes?” while also failing to be able to move much at all. “Ah. Dammit all. Zorik! Help me with this robe.”

Zorik looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here, and yet duty compelled him to—

Erick stood up, and said, “I’ll do it.”

Zorik steeled himself, and stepped away from his grandpapa, looking worried the whole time, but at least he was past his embarrassment. As for Zolan, the old man looked ready to face down a horde of wyrms. Which was probably something that was going to happen eventually when he got to dealing with the dragons of Ar’Cosmos. Erick approved.

And then he began to reach toward Zolan with his sunform, lifting the old man gently into the air…

- - - -

“Complete success,” Erick said, as he lay Zolan onto a conjured chair. A few more conjurings put some temporary clothes on the no-longer-old man. “The clothes are [Fairy Item], so they’ll break in the face of any other Fae Magic, but they’re tougher than normal conjured items.”

“By all the gods,” Zorik whispered reverently, as he gazed down at his grandpapa, “It really does work exactly as Rozeta said it would.”

Erick teased, “Did you not have faith?”

Zorik eyed Erick, briefly pissed that anyone would ever suggest as much, and then he realized he was eyeing a Wizard and rapidly turned back to his grandpapa. “It’s always surprising to see miracles, for one should never expect them, and cherish every one that comes one’s way.” He paused, then said, “The part about the… genitalia aside. You should know that grandpapa was a prolific man in his youth. He had three different wives, each of which he outlived, and with ten surviving children from those unions. He has a family of four hundred and ten right now. I expect that number to rise, especially since you made him look like… that.”

Erick had done fantastic work, that’s for sure!

Erick wasn’t too sure about the mind stuff, but when the world fractured from [Reincarnation], Erick had selected the vision of Zolan that led off to leading small councils to bureaucratic glory and controlling mountains of gold. Such a trajectory was simply a hope for the future, though; it wasn’t set in stone. As for the physical stuff, Erick was much more confident about that. His new castellan was a 20-something heroic specimen of man, with pale violet skin, small horns, Hollywood-level hotness, and assorted other types of film-level greatness, too. Zolan would surely approve, but if he, or his partners, found himself unhappy with the nuances of his new body, then he could probably go find or call up one of those Soul Mages he ‘didn’t know’.

“It’s not just Blood Magic, is it?” Zorik asked.

“This is not cosmetic Blood Magic; it won’t wash away with healing. He really is who he looks like now. He probably has a new name in his Status, too… Or maybe he doesn’t? Ask him and find out.” Erick smiled. “And families are important! Whatever new ones he goes on to make I’m sure he’ll do fine. You did well by him, I can tell.”

“He’s a fantastic administrator of finances. I suppose he’s lost all of his magic now, but… He’ll get it back.” Zorik said, “He’s going to make a lot of people angry that he chose to become something besides a copperscale, though. I did not expect the change to demi. No one did. But… I suppose…” He frowned. “Great grandma, Great gamy, and Zizi were all demi, so this is not actually that unexpected.”

Erick offered, “He’s going to take about twelve hours to fully wake, but you can speed that along with a [Cleanse] if you absolutely need to, though I would suggest you do not do that, just to give him time to relax. Do you want to take him home for a few days? Maybe help him gain some levels before he returns to work? He should start with 20s in all the basic Stats, which means he could start on boosting Skills and making magic right away. It shouldn’t take long for him to get up and running once again.”

Zorik stood straight. “20s in every— You can do that?”

“My aim might have been a little off, but I think I hit the max you can do naturally; yes.” Erick said, “I’m assuming that Kirginatharp would want to actually look him over, as well, so you can tell me what you find, though you shouldn’t find anything unexpected.”

“Then... Yes. I would appreciate taking him home, actually. I would… I would really appreciate that.”

Zorik was scared of losing his grandpapa, and probably would be scared of that for a long time to come. He was worried that he had already lost the old man, now that the ‘old man’ no longer existed, but Rozeta was surely whispering into his ears the truth of what he had seen, and that was messing him up, too. His soul did not believe what his eyes and his god were telling him, and that was a problem for him.

He was having trouble coming to grips with it all.

Erick said, “You’re welcome to come here too, you know. This doesn’t have to be a clean break between his old life and his current life, though I do expect his loyalties to lay with House Benevolence from now on. You can buy a house in Candlepoint and maybe I’ll even make a Gate from here to Oceanside one day soon, to allow for easy travel. Not for a while, though. I promised the wrought I would wait at least 10 more days, and I would need to actually speak about this with Kirginatharp.”

Zorik looked down at his great grandfather. “Maybe… Maybe at least my small part of the family could move here, too.”

Erick smiled a little, feeling great about this decision, and about how it had all happened. Things were looking up, up, up! He offered, “A [Gate] back to Oceanside, then?”

“OH!” Zorik came back to the moment, and said, “Yes. The trip here was via the contracted angel and demon [Gate] and I would prefer not to go through them again. Your own [Gate] would be lovely. Thank you, Wizard Flatt—” He paused. “Um. Can you… Can you wait a moment? I will clear it first.”

“Sure.”

Zorik sent out a tendril of thought. Poi was already doing the same, though, since he knew Erick’s thoughts without him needing to voice them, and Erick needed to move Ophiel into position at Oceanside to open the [Gate] from that side, and he didn’t want to cause an incident.

Erick waited.

Poi nodded; he got clearance to begin moving Ophiel in.

Ten seconds after that, Zorik said, “Okay. Yes. The hospital receiving room, if you could. That took a lot less time than I thought it would.”

Erick moved Ophiel toward the hospital receiving room, but before he opened the portal, he felt the need to tease the uptight paladin a bit more. “So when they ask why your grandpapa’s dick is so big you tell them Zolan asked for that, okay?”

Zorik’s copperscale face heated up again. He whispered, “So unprofessional of him.”

“Or brush off that question,” Erick shrugged, adding, “Either works.”

Zorik wanted to get his grandpapa home and for there to be less talk of dicks in his life. “Ready for transport, please.”

Erick opened a [Gate].

A familiar hospital lay on the other side; one where Xendross Sands had worked for a month, and where Jane had recuperated for a month. Erick waved to a nurse on duty and to a pair of hospital guards, who stared at him like they were looking at a Shade, but then Zorik walked through, floating his grandpapa behind him, talking a big show about the need for his grandpapa to get some generalized rest, and a need to see the Headmaster.

Kirginatharp showed up on the other side of the [Gate] even before Zorik finished saying the word ‘Headmaster’.

The Second to Rozeta looked much as he did last time; relaxed, yet in power. Like a Chinese emperor, in gold and white. Everyone froze, except for the Paladin who spoke in small words to the nurse about not [Cleanse]ing, and to let him wake naturally. That caused the orderlies and nurse to come back to the moment, and to get back to their job.

Erick wasn’t surprised at all by Kirginatharp’s arrival, and said, “Hello, Kirginatharp. You had a good man there, but Zolan works for me now. Just did the oaths.”

“Ah! Good.” Kirginatharp smiled faintly, looking like a weight had fallen off his shoulders. “I’m glad you approved…” His voice trailed off a bit as he focused more toward Zolan, and less toward Erick. “Ah. He’s... Demi?”

“His choice!”

“… Ah. Yes. His wives were demi, I suppose.”

Erick said, “Thanks for the other resumes as well, but I’ve got to get back to them.”

“Yes yes. Of course.” Kirginatharp turned to Erick and nodded. “I look forward to eventually having that tea we spoke about last time.”

Erick smiled again, saying, “I do as well, and also talking about getting a Gate hookup for Oceanside.”

Kirginatharp nodded, seeming to be happy about that tentative offer, as well.

Erick closed the [Gate].

And then he turned to Poi, and for a moment, he just said nothing.

That had gone well.

Poi nodded. “That did go rather well.”

Erick smiled, asking, “Who’s the next one?”

Poi laid down a small folder atop Erick’s desk, saying, “This one is Mox Dawnsider, who has been in Candlepoint for the last several hours, so there’s no need to pick her up. She’s recommended for Gate administrator, household administrator, education administrator, or land development administrator. She is interested in your plans to turn the Crystal Forest green.”

Erick had already sat down at his chair and began reading through the folder. He came to a few rapid conclusions. “I’m probably going to hire her, too… a hundred and five, though…” He flipped a bit— “Annnnd she wants a new body, too.” He shut the folder. “Probably still gonna hire her.”

Poi deadpanned, “You think she wants big tits?”

Erick laughed.