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The morning dawned, and Erick was already hard at work in his workshop. It had been three days since his transformation. He and his overseers had sorted out quite a lot of problems that had cropped up during Erick’s convalescence, but problems came like summoned rain, and Erick was hard at work figuring out yet another major piece of infrastructure that needed to be solved.

He was not currently working on sorting dragons for conversion to Benevolence. Nor was he testing out his new body and finding all the limits of his new self. He was mostly done getting reacquainted with the new size and power of his magic, too, though sparks of power occasionally leaked out of him when he wasn’t in perfect control, or actively using his Benevolence-laden sunform. Leaving footprints of moss wherever he went was still a bit of a problem, but it was a solvable problem. He’d get the hang of himself, eventually!

One of the best ways of getting that handling was with precise magic, though, which was exactly what he was doing.

Erick had just finished his tenth [Zone of Peace] and [Spatial Denial] iron sphere. Once activated, it would lock into place with a bit of [Domain of Benevolent Light] and [Undertow Wall], preventing all other non-Domain magics from affecting it, as well as ensuring that it would remain stationary and powered, due to a 5-meter radius Draining field around the thing. All it needed to stay powered, practically forever, was about 3,000 mana per day. A pretty high price for an average person, but in aggregate, in the center of a city where hundreds of people could walk by and keep the thing powered, 3,000 mana a day shouldn’t be a problem. Such requirements of daily mana upkeeps were rather normal in the Gate Network, and fulfilling those requirements hadn’t been a problem so far.

Erick already saw the writing on the wall that it would not stay this easy, though.

He needed a full-city runic web, filled with [Renew], so that he and everyone else could power every single Gate’s continual upkeep cost from anywhere the [Renew] web lay. That was yet another piece of infrastructure that he needed to solve; to support everything a lot more easily, and to make something that anyone could tap into for power.

Like they did at Enduring Forge.

But that would come later, once Erick figured out how to make long lines of runic web power out of iron. He’d probably do, like, 5 meter long sections of sealed tubes, using his Denial Sphere design but adapted for length instead of effect. That way he could lay a bunch of them together in a line and they could share power through themselves, but also, if one section broke, he could replace that section.

… Complicated, though.

He could do the whole thing out of platinum right now if he really wanted to, but that was the easy, monumentally expensive solution, and people would steal that platinum, for sure. It’d be harder to steal iron tubular sections of a web, and a lot less profitable for the thief, therefore it was probably not something that most people would do.

People had already tried to steal Gates, though they never got very far at all with them.

But all of that was something to deal with later.

For now, Erick smiled. He had ten spheres ready, each of them able to Peace and Deny a roughly 10-kilometer-across slice of land, that extended up and down about 200 meters both above and below the ground. If the Denial Sphere got knocked out of position, tilting all of its magic at an angle, Erick had put in some more magic that would make the whole thing either slowly correct itself over the course of a day, or rapidly correct itself if it got an injection of a thousand mana.

Hopefully.

The tests had already proven it worked!

Erick smiled again, and then he went for a swim down below in the glowing waters surrounding radiant Yggdrasil.

Feeling great, Erick floated on his back, holding himself up with his power for he was too heavy these days to do anything but sink straight down. That was fine, though. He was comfortable as he gazed up at the veritable sky of ‘lightning’ made by Yggdrasil’s branches, and at the green world beyond, made of flaming leaves. He felt good. As the world outside his little slice of paradise began to brighten with the promise of day, Erick flickered, vanishing from his swim.

He reappeared at home, wrapped in robes.

Breakfast was a treat from the House; a small feast prepared by a 9 star Cook and their assistants. Pancakes. Two types of sausage. Eggs. A pile of potatoes. Juice. Erick made his own coffee, and then he sat down at his breakfast alcove and began eating.

He was done faster than he thought he should be.

And yet, his stomach still rumbled, demanding food. Sighing, Erick had an Ophiel go back for another bit of food, flitting through the breakfast line, waiting his turn to grab a small plate of sausages and pancakes again. Some of the other people in line smiled a bit at Ophiel; those people were new hires who didn’t quite know that this Ophiel was under the direct control of Erick. Others, who had worked there for a while now, or else they were simply better informed, looked to Ophiel with reverence. The person dishing out sausage gave a little bow, saying, ‘Welcome back, Wizard.’

Ophiel gave a little nod and then took off with his prize, leaving behind a few more people with a bit more knowledge of what to look for in an Ophiel, to understand that Erick himself was looking through all those bright white eyes.

When Ophiel reappeared at home, Erick took the plate and [Duplicate]d everything into a great big pile.

Finally, after eating enough for at least two orcols, his hunger pangs began to settle down.

He knew the problem.

It didn’t take a genius intellect to understand what was going on. Jane experienced much of the same thing when she started getting new Familiar Forms, and she and Erick had had a conversation on the topic many times. Different forms had different caloric requirements. Jane got by with her requirements by sometimes eating the monsters she killed. Thus, she was never really hungry. If she ate a whole lot her other forms were sated, too. But she could always eat. She was much more than just some normal girl from Earth; she was also a unicorn, a rivergrieve, a few types of spiders, and more. Her giant blue tarantula form had her eating like a giant blue tarantula would, whenever she could, and she was still able to eat fine in her human form.

And now Erick was a dragon.

Human quantities of food were great for enjoying a meal with other human-sized people. But he needed to eat.

Erick set down his fork, unsatisfied. He was technically full. The food was there, inside of him. But as he watched his organs and digestive tract go to work, as it had been working for a while now, he saw that food seem to dwindle; to vanish off into some other place. It was freaking weird, but no more weird than everything else that had happened to him.

Poi finally came out on the porch, carrying his own small tray of food. “You could have copied our food.”

“Yeah. But… Thought about it. Decided it felt weird to copy other people’s food.”

Poi sat down. “Dragons are mostly carnivores, too, so you need to eat a lot more meat now.”

“That was one thing I was hoping to avoid.”

Poi instantly knew what to do. “Go grab the biggest scarlet king fish you can find at Treehome, kill it, copy it a hundred times inside a [Prismatic Ward], and then eat all of those crunchy meaty morsels. Leave the bones in, too. Dragons don’t actually need to eat every single day, so you might only need to do that once a week. Less, if you’re not in your dragon form that often.” Poi added, “And enjoy it. That’s like… pure decadence.”

“Ha! You’ve been saving that for a while now! How long?”

“All my life, actually. You have no idea how much dragons enjoy food, but you will.”

Erick chuckled. “Leave the bones in, eh?”

“A texture enhancer.” Poi said, “Fermented and fried silver minnows make a great sandwich filling for that exact reason. I have tried to replicate what I have overheard in the experiences of others through fried minnows, but it cannot be the same at all. And with scarlet king, you don’t have to ferment or fry them at all to make them palatable. I can only imagine how good eating a room full of that would feel, so you should go do that so I could live vicariously through you.”

Erick laughed again.

Poi added, “And you don’t want to be hangry when you get to all those dragon meetings today, right?”

“No; I suppose I do not.”

“You should go get a scarlet king and make a copy for us to have for dinner, too.”

Erick chuckled again. “Sir yes sir! Heard and understood.”

Poi smiled a little, then got back to his own breakfast, though his eyes were on the sky. He was already looking forward to some fresh scarlet king tonight.

“I am! It’s gonna be so good.”

While grinning and still sitting at the breakfast nook, Erick sent an Ophiel through a [Gate] to Yggdrasil at Treehome.

The big guy was very, very big up here on the edge of the Forest. Bigger than any of his other forms in any other location. Yggdrasil stood like a monkeypod tree above a field of small bushes, his glowing white arms and greenery and rainbow crown spreading out like a thunderhead cloud made of green fire.

But those ‘small bushes’ down below, which didn’t even reach a third of the way to Yggdrasil’s lowest branches, were each a kilometer tall on their own. Yggdrasil was big, and growing every day.

Yggdrasil instantly noticed that Ophiel and Erick were directly near him.

A large [Scry] eye appeared and Yggdrasil said, “Hello father!”

Erick smiled, still sitting on his seat at Candlepoint. “Looking for a scarlet king, Yggdrasil. Can you find a nice eating one for me?”

“There’s some right down here!”

Yggdrasil’s eye zipped through the sky, and Erick followed with Ophiel. As the other various [Scry] eyes of the Arbors of Treehome found their way back to Yggdrasil and Ophiel (and Erick), Erick bowed a bit to them, and they bobbed up and down in turn.

And then the Arbors started asking what he was doing here.

“In search of a scarlet king for breakfast!” Erick said.

And then Wyrmrest asked, “No. Really. What are you doing here?”

O’kabil interjected, “What he means to say is that we heard about the dragons and are worried that there will be a fight in our vicinity. If there is, could you help us stop it?”

“I’m currently on the lookout for those events myself, and will be [Reincarnation]ing a lot of dragons in the coming days. I’ll have my hands full in my own part of the world, so I probably won’t be able to help here.” Erick said, “And that said, I really am just here for a good scarlet king—”

Yggdrasil complained, “Father! Father! Follow me! I found them!”

O’kabil’s eye flew forward with Yggdrasil saying, “You don’t want those ones, Erick. Those are the breeding ones. Yggdrasil? Can you show us the fast ones?”

Yggdrasil looked to Ophiel. “But? They’re still scarlet kings?”

“Show me the fast ones, Yggdrasil.” Erick said, “The ones that are bright red and really fast, like rubies flying under the water.”

“Okay!” And then Yggdrasil took off in another direction. In moments, Ophiel plunged down into the massive lake surrounding Yggdrasil, turning to [Perfected Benevolence] to evade the water resistance. Yggdrasil’s voice called out, “This way! I see them!”

One very quick chase later, Erick had a very large scarlet king wrapped in lightning-light. One quick pulse of power killed it. He sent the fish home, but he stayed for a little bit longer to talk to the Arbors, giving some more assurances that he was on the dragon case, but that he could not actually assist Treehome with their own defenses. They seemed mollified.

Erick’s stomach was already rumbling.

Erick got up, leaving Poi behind, saying, “Your fish is already in the cold room, sir.”

“Oh gods, it’s gonna be so good. Oh man.” Poi got up, too, saying, “I have to go see it.”

Erick smiled.

- - - -

In a Privacy atop Yggdrasil, Erick unfurled himself—

It was like sinus congestion finally ending, like the opening of a stuffy house and an overpacked suitcase breaking at the seams and a dam finally breaking and flooding dry land, bringing forth life from the lifeless. As Erick settled, his happy tail whipped back and forth. His wings flapped behind him. His perspective shifted, and now he was a good 25 meters higher than where he had been before, but he was still where he had been, because now he was in both places.

He was also about 40ish meters behind himself, with his tail being rather long.

And also about that much off to the sides, with his wings flicking out on their own accord, until Erick got them under control once again. The switch between forms was still disorienting, but Erick supposed he would get a better hang on this eventually; this was only his second time, after all. Maybe not as quickly as he needed to, for this form carried a lot of connotations that would turn the public against him rather harshly…

Erick could survive that turning, probably, but there was no need to risk it right now, and probably not for a while. Years? Sure. Years. Candlepoint could probably handle Erick’s new self, too, but there was no need to go stressing all those still-building relationships, either.

Anyway!

He took a measuring stick with him for today’s transformation, so he could get a better idea of how big he was, and for ensuring that he was the proper size when he was finished. According to that stick, which hovered in the air, while Erick also sat on his haunches in the air, he was about 8 meters of neck, 16 meters of body, 20-ish meters of tail (though that was hard to measure directly because it would not stop wagging (did he have two brains in this body? Did another part of him control the tail, like a dinosaur? Answer: no. Dragons were magic and did not care about such things like ‘the transmission rate of nerves’ (probably) (he didn’t even have extra hearts!))), and a good 25ish meters of wings on both sides of himself.

His wings had little grabby hands on the front, like a bat’s. This made sense, since his wings were basically arms, and the ‘hand part’ was basically that grabby, main joint, giving him four fingers with which to grab with, while his ‘pinkies’ were much larger than the pinky fingers on a human, for those ‘fingers’ form the leading edge of his wings, extending all the way out to the tips of his wing-arms.

Erick looked at his chest, trying to understand how all those bones and muscles fit together. This was easy enough, even with all those massive muscles allowing for his second pair of ‘arms’ that were his wings. It was like he had pecs on pecs on shoulders, which was kinda funny—

His stomach rumbled, both like a minor disturbance, but also like a minor avalanche, if Erick was to consider his human-sized senses. Less focusing on form; more focusing on needs.

Yes.

Erick looked at his ‘prey’, hovering inside of his lightgrip like a fish-shaped ruby with a tiny dot of dark at its head where Erick had killed the thing. He leaned in and gave it a sniff—

A sudden well of wetness filled his mouth and he almost snapped up the fish that instant, but he controlled himself…

The scarlet king, which had looked huge when Erick was human-sized, at being about a meter long, now looked like it could barely serve as an appetizer, for Erick was ravenously hungry—

Ah. Yeah. He was hungry. Very hungry, and almost willing to eat that fish long before he was ready to eat that fish. He recognized that now.

A little worrying, that. He wanted to eat that fish quite a lot. But instead, he opened his mouth and had a look at himself through his mana sense. His mouth was filled with glowing white teeth and his gullet was a white hole. All of his interior looked white and glowing, though he only guessed it was white, for it was hard to tell color through mana sense.

Looking at his mouth again…

It didn’t look like he could really chew or taste his food; not with fangs and no molars, and with a tongue that was basically a tendril of taste receptors the size of one of his larger fangs…

Wait a second.

Erick looked inside of himself again.

No vocal cords?

So how was he able to speak?

Erick said, “Testing. Testing.”

His insides just vibrated that way, eh? Based on his desires?

“Testing, testing. I am the very model of a modern major general. I don’t believe in animals, or vegetables, or minerals.”

Did the original lyrics go like that? Erick had no idea. He had heard Jane say something like that when she was a kid, and it had stuck with him all these years later.

And yes; his insides did just vibrate that way allowing him to talk.

—He wasn’t breathing? Oh. Yeah. He wasn’t breathing.

Erick purposefully breathed in and out—

A small burst of streaming clouds and lightning flashed out like a burp from a demigod, before Erick realized what he had done and shut his mouth. Glowing white mist continued out of his nostrils like steam from a kettle, flickering with sparks all the while.

Erick focused on what had just happened.

A few more tests later revealed that he did not actually need to breathe at all, or at least not while he was running his [Perfected Benevolence]. Erick held onto one of Yggdrasil’s bigger branches, securing himself to a solid surface so he wouldn’t fall when he turned off his aura. And then he did so. With his lightning turned off, he did have to breathe, and it sounded rather menacing.

Ophiel instantly tried to replicate that sound.

Three Ophiel working together were able to get the deep bass and the rumbling drums worked out enough to approximate Erick’s natural breathing sounds. Kinda cute, in a horrifying sort of way.

But back to his breathing. With his aura, he didn’t really need to ‘breathe’. Like with Jane’s shadow spider form that could not exist on its own without using its aura to breathe, Erick’s dragon form’s ‘breathing’ was best done through a constant, low level Elemental Body. That low level functionality got turned up really high for dragons, though.

When Erick purposefully breathed in and then out while running his aura, a massive cloud bank of bright white Benevolence billowed outward across Yggdrasil’s branches, leaving patches of greenery wherever it landed. Mostly just more moss, up here at the top of Yggdrasil, but a few flowers and ferns, too—

Yggdrasil giggled like a child, telling him that it tickled, and then to do it again. Erick happily obliged, sending Yggdrasil into a ticklish fit as sparking light caused vines and greenery to grow everywhere, and the happy laughs of a child sent rainbows scattering across Yggdrasil’s crown. And then he said that was enough, so Erick stopped, smiling wide—

Oh. That’s a menacing smile.

Yggdrasil turned his attention back to Treehome.

Erick turned his attention back to what he came here for.

Time for breakfast. Erick looked back to his scarlet king, waiting to be eaten. His mouth salivated again, his tongue licking out, tasting the air— which was apparently something he could do now. Dragons were part snake. So that was fun. The air tasted delicious.

At least his dripping saliva didn’t cause more random growth wherever it touched Yggdrasil’s bark. That would have boded badly for the rest of what his body could do. Erick imagined pissing out flowers. Uncomfortable, for sure.

Hopefully this dragon form didn’t need to go to the bathroom more than once a week, too, but Erick supposed he would get used to that eventually, if he had to. Humans could adapt to a lot, and… Well. He had already adapted rather far from ‘human’.

… Erick looked at the other parts of his draconic body that he had been ignoring. He would get to that part of himself too, eventually, but not today.

Erick had an Ophiel cast another small [Prismatic Ward] around the still-floating scarlet king, and then Erick copied it. Just like when metals were [Duplicate]ed inside [Prismatic Ward], becoming magical metals, copying meat and vegetables and other things had the same effects on those other things.

One magical meat fish became two magical meat fish.

Erick floated the second one up to himself. He opened his mouth.

He took a tiny nibble—

“OH GODS IT’S SO GOOD!”

Erick rapidly copied all the fish he wanted, eating all he could, the fatty, thick meat seeming to dissolve in his mouth like bits of cream, but sprinkled all throughout with flakes of crispy skin and bones as easily broken as the surface of a crème brule. He tasted it all the way down his throat, too, so that was an experience. The fish skulls were actually the best part; like finding a bit of carrot in a soup of deliciousness.

Erick finally felt full after around a hundred fish. Maybe a bit more. He wasn’t quite sure.

But he was sure that he loved every second of that experience, and now his stomach was finally full. That was the best part of all this. Being a full dragon. Wow. It kinda reminded Erick of being a kid at Thanksgiving and being allowed to eat everything he wanted to, and then feeling like everything would be alright, right before he slipped into a wonderful food coma.

No food coma today, though.

Erick kept himself awake.

The sun hovered right above the eastern horizon. Erick had taken only about half an hour to do all this. Next time, he would put himself in a time bubble too and truly take his time.

Cleaning up was easy, since there was no cleanup necessary at all. Putting himself back into his human body did take some doing, though, now that he wasn’t some sort of starving dragon; he was full and happy and his body did not like being crushed back into its tiny little Erick-shaped box. The horns were especially annoying this time.

But it had been worth it.

When Erick got back home he went to Poi, to tell him how it was. He didn’t need to, though. Poi saw it on Erick’s face, and smiled wide.

“That’s amazing, Erick,” Poi grinned, lost in a shared moment. “That’s good.”

Erick smiled. “That was so good.”

Teressa, who was at the breakfast nook along with Poi and Kiri, asked, “What’s good?”

Erick told them.

Teressa and Kiri didn’t seem to get what was so special about it all, but that was fine. They were happy that Erick was happy.

Kiri did seem to get this look in her eyes that she was playing off her nonchalance, though. She was intrigued about the idea of becoming a dragon herself. Erick decided that he would probably deny her if she ever truly asked, but that was probably his own reluctance talking. Maybe in fifty years, or something.

It was probably a good idea to not transform any people into Benevolence dragons if he could help it, but that ship had sailed. At least two other dragons in today’s meetings were getting the Benevolence treatment. Erick had decided that much already.

- - - -

In a very large room in the middle of nowhere, and also partially in Fairy thanks to [Fairy Stronghold], Erick waited. The room was nothing special; basically a hundred meter cube with the walls made of glass and the floor made of solid stone. The sun shone brightly outside those windows, illuminating the vast desert of the Crystal Forest.

This part of the Crystal Forest was filled with dunes and not much else. Even the crystal mimics in this land were few and far between. There was a flight of sand rays nestling out there under the deeper dunes, but unless something startled them, then they were going to stay there. A few flying fish above the dunes were the only thing that was even really noticeable out there—

Poi’s voice came to Erick, ‘He’s ready.’

Erick acknowledged Poi and then gazed out through Ophiel, looking to the appointed spot. On a random dune also in the middle of nowhere, stood Al. The sewermaster of Spur looked the same as he always did, but with an air of pure nerves surrounding him and wearing plain clothes that were obvious conjurings. He was prepared to lose them to violence, or otherwise. His eyes glanced left and right. He breathed shallowly. His fists clenched.

And then Ophiel appeared in front of him, and Al froze.

Al thawed quick enough, forcing himself to calm. He nodded.

Ophiel chirped and then fluttered onto Al’s shoulder, outside of Erick’s control and way before he could actually stop the little guy and make it even more awkward. Al just looked at Ophiel, raising an eyebrow.

… Erick had Ophiel open a [Gate] into this space.

Suddenly, a circle of lightning held between Erick and Al, and both of them were prepared for the worst. Erick had been around other dragons since his own transformation, with Burhendurur and Volaro, but this was the first time he was meeting a dragon who held the Curse.

Neither of them flinched at the sight of each other, though, so that was good. Erick didn’t expect to flinch, and neither did Al, for they had coordinated what was going to happen here a day ago. If anything was going to happen, it would have happened then—

Erick was delaying. He stepped back, saying, “Come on in, Al.”

Al was delaying too, it seemed, for he did not come in right away. He was scared.

Erick let him take his time.

The sun beat down. The northern winds blew a bit of sand into the [Fairy Stronghold]. And Al closed his eyes for a long moment. And then he opened his eyes, and they were full black. He sighed, and changed. Not physically. Not in body. But in countenance and everything else.

He strode forward, his long orcol legs easily bringing him inside the room, where he towered over Erick by a full meter. He did not loom, though. He just towered, for that was his nature.

Erick closed the portal.

They were alone in the middle of a hundred meter cube of [Fairy Stronghold], with the desert on display everywhere around them.

Erick asked, “This will work, but if you are nervous, we can do this another time?”

“A dragon does not ‘get nervous’, Erick. They either do, or they do not.” Al said, “And I am prepared. I would like to confirm you are an actual dragon, though, and to know what I am in for, as every dragon is different. May I see your [Dragon Body] now?”

They had already agreed to this exchange on Al’s request, and Erick agreed because he didn’t know much about the mechanics of dragons, so he was glad to finally see someone else’s dragon box. Erick had contemplated asking Volaro and Burhendurur, but that had seemed wrong. Al’s was much more palatable.

But Al was nervous.

So Erick tried a joke to defuse the situation, “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Al was not here for jokes. He pulled out his blue box instantly.

--

Dragon Body, Permanently Active, 0 mana

<absolute damage reduction 50>, <increased range>, <increased mana>, <increased health>, <increased control and power of all stone-based spellwork>

Assume a draconic form based on your nature, at will, gaining <massively increased range>. <half damage taken>

Assume a new Familiar Form of any type you have experience with, at will.

Immortal.

--

Different from Erick’s, for sure.

Huh.

Erick handed his own over, saying, “I guess all dragons are products of their own accretion?”

--

Greater Dragon Body, Permanently Active, 0 mana

<absolute damage reduction 500>, <double range>, <double duration>, <massively increased healing effectiveness>

Assume a greater draconic form based on your nature, at will, gaining <massively increased range>.

Assume a new Familiar Form of any type you have experience with, at will.

Immortal.

--

Al looked at the box and sighed. “You even have [Greater Dragon Body].” Al took the box and visibly broke it, to show that he was not saving it into his own Status. Al had been very clear about that requirement to this exchange; it was a cultural thing, a show of respect, and acknowledgment that nothing said in this exchange of information could be handed over to another. Of course, someone could just lie, and verbally hand off this very personal information anyway, but that was dishonorable and not lightly done. Immortals had long memories, after all. “I assume the smaller version that I would actually get is different?”

Erick handed over the box for his normal [Dragon Body], though he had to go looking through his notifications to find it. “250 absolute damage reduction instead of 500.” As he visibly broke the box Al gave him, he asked, “Do you think the others will react oddly when I pull out the Greater version? I wasn’t sure about that. You’re actually my test case for all of this, Al, because I’m pretty sure I know how you’re taking this.”

Al narrowed his eyes a little bit on Erick as he glanced at the new blue box. “I don’t think you know how I’m taking this at all, but whatever guesses you have inside your head are likely near enough the mark to count as true.” He broke the blue box, then said, “If I were you I would have already demanded every [Dragon Body] box from every dragon you have working for you. It’s rude, but you are in power there, and they are not your equals at all.”

Erick felt a small sadness in his heart. “Does that mean you don’t want to come work for me after this?”

“No.” Al said, “Silverite has treated me too well for me to abandon her like that. Savral is in Spur. Spur is my home. I’m not moving if I don’t have to. Are you demanding I move to Candlepoint to fulfill this Benevolencing?”

“… I will not demand this of you, Al—”

He paused.

Erick said, “Actually. I do demand that you not be a stranger. Visit the Gate District when you want. Shop at Candlepoint. Eat at the atrium in the House and enjoy food from all over the world, cooked by 7, 8, 9, and even one 10 star Cook. Come on by sometime and tell me what it means to be a dragon. Go places and do things, for you will have a full life available to you now. You will never have to worry about meeting another dragon and having a fight after today, okay? You can live again. Maybe for the first time in your life.”

Al almost objected when Erick started, but he listened, and he relaxed. He gulped as emotions ran through his chest and changed all of him, again. He still stood strong, but instead of acting like a solid stone to weather the storm, he read more like a man on the edge of a cliff.

A man who could fly, if he wanted to.

With softer eyes, Al nodded. His voice broke as he said, “I can do— I can do that.”

Erick smiled brightly. “So? Do you need to be naked for this? A dragon? I’m not reciprocating and turning into a dragon by the way; that’s way too odd for me right now.”

Al chuckled, then laughed loud. He breathed deep, and said, “I’m going to be a dragon.”

Erick felt he might have blinked, and maybe he did. For in that moment the world changed, filling with black and a bit of shattered black magic that fell to the ground, dissipating in sparkles. Those sparkles had been Al’s clothes.

Like a wall of scales encircling all of Erick, about ten meters out in every direction, lay Al, the dragon. He was a 40 meter long serpent, twisted around on himself, with his head and front body looking down at Erick, from about five meters away.

Erick looked up. “Hello, Al.”

With the same voice as always, but a bit deeper, Al said, “Alenzikaron, if you wish to know my full, real name. The last name of ‘Noraki’ is a part of ‘Al’s’ identity, but you can still call me ‘Al’ if you desire.”

Erick smiled wide. “It’s good to finally meet you, Alenzikaron.”

Al smiled a little, and Erick found he was not scared at all.

Alenzikaron said, “It would be good to meet with your real form later. Perhaps you can think up your real name by then? It is okay to take your time with that sort of thing, for it took me forty years to figure out ‘Alenzikaron’ and… Ah. Bollocks. I am stalling.” With full-black eyes and curving back horns, and a mouth that held white teeth, but which still looked rather normal with common-sized fangs and red gums, Al leaned down a bit, asking, “Do you think my coloring will change?”

There was real concern in that question.

Erick tried not to laugh at the incongruity of this giant being asking about something as simple as color, but then again, Erick was rather concerned over his own dragon color… Could he just change it? Yes, through illusions, but then [True Sight] could see him for what he was, and that wasn’t a real solution at all. But he hadn’t even considered changing his colors from Melemizargo’s colors until now, and yet, he found the prospect rather…

Unwelcome.

Erick liked his coloring.

Odd.

Erick could even justify why his coloring was already perfect. Benevolence tangled black, and Erick was black, because he was a tangle of Benevolence. That his eyes and other parts of him were white, were just because they were representative of the sparks of his Benevolence. His entire body naturally sparked and glowed white when he was a dragon, too, so that all made a whole lot of sense to him.

Huh.

With empathy, Erick said, “Maybe you’ll turn grey or silver, or maybe full white. I am sorry to say that I doubt you will remain black. Whenever anyone is [Reincarnation]’d their magic lightens. What I will be doing today is not a [Reincarnation], but it’s… It changes the very nature of your soul. The alignment, mostly. That shift will change your color, and you’re the first recipient. I cannot tell you how you will end up. Not exactly.”

Al pulled back in subtle worry. Then he said, “I can change my color back eventually… Probably.” And then he looked to Erick. “Your Benevolence [Dragon Body] is barebones, Erick. A high absolute damage reduction is nice, but a constant [Defend] effect, like what I have, would do you well; those two forms of spellwork are beautiful together. You need to accrete properly. Not just accept what was made of you.”

“I already have Constitution and that’s 95% damage reduction.” Erick said, “Anything below 20,000 damage won’t leave a scratch.”

“… Right. You are crazy. I forgot that for half a second. Absolute damage reduction is best for you.” Alenzikaron reared back, breathed deep, and then settled back down, laying his head down on the ground before Erick. “I am ready.” He closed his eyes.

Erick approached.

Warm breath blew out from Alenzikaron’s nostrils, as his whiskers twitched and his eyes moved under his eyelids. And then he felt Erick get near, and he forced his whiskers to the ground, and his eyes to stillness. His breath evened.

Erick touched his nose.

Alenzikaron’s black scales were hard and dry, but smooth like obsidian stone. All of him looked like that. He’d never look like that again, though. Erick knew that Al would change, and Al was lying to himself thinking he could ever change back. But Al knew that already, so Erick said nothing. Everything that had needed to be said had already been said...

“This might hurt,” Erick said.

“I know,” Alenzikaron answered.

Erick cast.

White lightning danced out from Erick like the ripping of a world, tearing into Al, ripping away scales like the prying of gems from a statue. Al did not move. He did not scream.

Erick jumped away, worried about everything.

And then Al lifted his head, and lightning continued to rip him apart, prying off scales and scattering dark red blood to the ground. The spell rapidly broke through all of Alenzikaron’s body, and he became a coiled conflagration of white lightning, ripping and tearing at all of him. His breath came out like sand, and then as white sparks. He grumbled, muttering about how it was slightly worse than he thought it would be, but that he could handle it. That calmed Erick a fraction, but not really at all—

Lightning blew out a four meter section of Alenzikaron’s side, scattering gore across the ground, splashing blood on Erick.

Al roared at that, but still, he endured.

Only ten seconds had passed and Erick was near his panicking limit, preparing himself to sing to the mana and take direct control of Alenzikaron’s transformation—

But then Alenzikaron’s wound healed in a flashing instant.

Silver scales replaced black. Al sighed in partial relief, and then he grunted again as his body was remade from the inside out, grunting about how the worst of it was over, and that he saw the problem. All his old body was the problem; it wasn’t him anymore. He was trapped and he needed to transform.

“I could use some proper healing magic help, Erick,” Al managed to grunt, at three minutes into his ordeal. “Any at all. My [Dragon Body] is already changed to yours.”

Erick obliged, having his Ophiel flood the mostly-black, partially silver dragon with Healing spells. Everywhere Ophiel touched with [Greater Treat Wounds] caused an eruption of black scales and muscle and gore that rapidly transformed into healed flesh and silver scales.

Erick watched as the room filled with the death of a black dragon.

And a pure silver dragon rose in its wake.

Ten minutes after starting the process, Alenzikaron stood up from the remains of his former body and floated in the air on flickers of Benevolence lightning. His eyes were black and silver.

He looked beautiful.

Alenzikaron looked at himself a bit, too, and he seemed okay with all of that.

And Erick said, “Well holy fucks and shits. I was not expecting that. You good, Alenzikaron?”

Alenzikaron smiled. “Yes… Yes, Erick. I am good. I feel…” He looked up at the endless sky above the room. “I feel I need to go for a fly. I haven’t done that in… Since I was a very stupid kid who didn’t realize what chaos he was going to cause. Maybe I will refrain from that.”

Erick joked, “Just don’t go taking over any cities out there, okay? We Benevolence dragons need to be better than that.”

It was not much of a joke, for that was exactly what Erick did not want to happen.

Alenzikaron looked back to Erick, saying, “I know. I would never besmirch this honor…” He paused, and then he flickered.

He was once again Al, the orcol, but this time he was standing on a pile of his own former self, and he was very nude. He didn’t seem to mind.

Neither did Erick, really.

Al said, “I’m going to go back to Spur and I would like to visit later, if that is alright? When you’re done with the day’s events? Or maybe tomorrow if you’re too busy today.”

Erick smiled. “I’d like that.” And then he added, “But. Uh. Yeah. I might be too busy today.”

Al gestured at his corpse, saying, “This thing is good for enchanting with, if you want it. I’m done with it, though.”

Erick laughed loudly. “That’s weird, Al!”

“What! Not that weird at all.” Al toed at a large patch of black scales, sending the top one tumbling down into blood. “I’ve used some of my own scales for enchanting sometimes myself. But! It’s your call. I’m done with them. I thought for a second that I would want to keep it, when I knew what was happening but… It’s useful, and yet I do not want it. So. See you later.” And then he put on some conjured clothes and blipped away in a flash of silver light.

Erick continued to smile a little.

And then he frowned, looking down at himself.

“Stop that,” Erick said to himself, “That’s nothing to get excited over. He’s just… Coming over eventually.” Erick looked over at the mess all around him. “And that’s certainly not exciting, right?” His temporary problem went down again, and Erick felt relief at that. “Good. I’m not turning into some sort of weirdo. Good.”

Erick began cleaning up the mess, but funnily enough, [Cleanse] left behind every single one of Al’s scales and every single one of his discarded bones, and horns, and fangs. They were highly useful items, according to the Script. So Erick pushed all of those into a pile, and then he [Gate]d them to his warehouse back on Yggdrasil, slotting them into a large bin the size of a dumpster. That bin went into a corner of the warehouse, surrounded by a quick [Preservation Ward], and there it sat. Erick had no idea what to do with them, but for some reason keeping them around did seem like a good idea.

And then he swept the manasphere of the room in the desert with a [Sealed Privacy Ward], destroying all [Witness]able history in the space. There were several more of these [Fairy Stronghold] setups located around the Crystal Forest, so Erick could do this same procedure for at least one more dragon, and maybe more, but he would not be using this one again. He canceled the [Fairy Stronghold], falling back into real space, but not onto the ground. Floating in his sunform, it was time to move on.

There were dangers to avert.

- - - -

The meeting with Zenipeq was the only meeting, aside from Al, which had a good chance to produce another Benevolence dragon. Erick had spoken with Zolan at length about what to expect and who Zenipeq was, which made Erick more and more secure in his decision, and Zolan increasingly worried about Erick’s responses to the dangers of this world.

In Erick’s office, Zolan tried to get him to change his mind again.

“King Flatt. Erick,” Zolan said, because Erick had told him to call him by his first name a week ago, though the man had yet to use Erick’s first name all that much, and only when they were alone. “Necromancy destroys every soul it touches. It is only by pure force of will and highly nuanced magics that fail all the time that these liches retain any semblance of propriety or morals at all.”

Erick said, “Yes. I understand that. But Zolan. You said yourself that Frostflower is about the only decent Fractured Citadel, and that they are a bulwark against the expansion of Death Throne, and a place for mortals to sometimes rest. On the whole, the Fractured Citadels only ever expand or contract against the forces of the oozes of Quintlan, and against each other. They almost never send anyone outside their borders to any other lands, and they only ever fight defensive wars, which they win, all the time. They could flood the world with undeath, but they haven’t, and yes, that’s because of all the other forces out here that also only fight defensive wars. But if Frostflower loses their main source of power, they will be subsumed by all the other Fractured Citadels. That’s a lot of dead mortals.”

“I also said that mortals are considered trash over there! The ones who displease their masters are turned into golems, or turned into magic items. Zenipeq is a tyrant dragolich who is completely closed off to negotiations with the rest of the world.”

“Okay well.” Erick said his final thoughts on the subject, “I mostly know what a Benevolencing will do to a dragon. Therefore, I will do this Benevolencing to Zenipeq and all the world would be better for it. So let’s talk more about what we want to happen afterward; what sort of concessions and openness we want from Frostflower, or whatever. If this doesn’t work, I want it to be on her, Zolan. Not because of us. That’s not the kind of nation I want to be.”

Zolan breathed out, his eyes flickering back and forth in thought. He looked up for a while. Then he looked at Erick, and said, “Okay. For a start, we need to demand that they cease the production of magical items out of criminals, and that they adopt Common International Law, at least. The Fractured Citadels have never gone that far in joining the rest of civilization, and maybe if they do… I hope this works, Erick, because I really don’t think it will.”

Erick smiled softly, and said, “So Common International Law, and the cessation of criminal souls into items. Both are good. What else?”

Zolan began with, “We’ll have to throw out a few Platforms we’re willing to abandon, like...”

- - - -

The land outside of this [Fairy Stronghold] held rocks and scattered sand drifts, but there were still no truly distinguishing features on the horizons. Anyone who landed in here could surely [Scry] out and up to get their bearings, which was why Erick had placed multiple layers of Privacys and his own [Domain of Benevolent Light] around the outside of the meeting location. The inside held multiple overlapping [Zone of Peace]s, with more scattered outside to intercept any possible long-range Red Dots, or similar magics. Erick doubted that all of these protections could truly stand up to a hostile dragon, which is why it was only him, Poi, and Burhendurur in this space.

Erick had had a good half hour talk with the Death Dragon who worked for him about the undead dragolich coming for a visit, and everything he had to say was both good, and cautious, and how he wanted to be here to deal with the possible Benevolencing or [Reincarnation] of Zenipeq. Burhendurur was still a bit miffed that Erick hadn’t told him he was a dragon until that conversation.

“I would have preferred some more time to come to terms with you actually making Benevolence Dragons, my king. I have many conversations I have kept waiting for this day, if you ever chose this route. Warnings and nuances and… If I have given offense and lost your trust, please allow me to make it up to you.”

Erick said, “It was nothing like that, Burhendurur. I’m simply not telling people who don’t need to know, until they need to know. And now, you needed to know. Don’t tell the others yet.”

“… Fair enough.” Burhendurur breathed, then said, “Allow me to say a few small things while we wait, if you will.”

“Proceed.”

“This is complicated, but I will give you the overview: If you should choose a Benevolencing, you should ask her for her [Dragon Body] box, and if she asks for yours in return, you must deny her, for you are not meeting as equals in an exchange of information to better understand what children might possibly look like, or to plan around general capabilities in a strike-force-type situation. You are meeting with her as her superior, and thus she should not know all there is to know of you. After the transformation, she will end up with some form of [Dragon Body] that is not her current one, but is similar to yours. After the transformation, you must return her old [Dragon Body] to her, so that she will have a memento of her past.” Burhendurur said, “That whole thing I described is a small ritual of polite society, when it comes to the induction of a dragon into a House.”

“… Ah.” Erick suddenly recalled his ‘ritual of politeness’ with Al, and Al had spoken of that ritual with a lot less reverence than Burhendurur was giving it. “It occurs to me that I don’t have your box. Should I ask for it?”

Burhendurur said, “If I am allowed to see yours, in turn.”

Erick grinned a little. “But I am in charge here, am I not?”

“You are, my king.”

Burhendurur handed over a blue box without further word. Erick’s refusal had been a test, and Erick passed. Burhendurur’s [Dragon Body] was surely different than Erick’s.

--

Dragon Body, Permanently Active, 0 mana

<absolute damage reduction 25>, <double range>, <double mana regeneration>, <near-innate control over all unattended dead things>

Assume a draconic form based on your nature, at will, gaining <massively increased range>, <massively increased control and power of all soul-based spellwork>

Assume a new Familiar Form of any type you have experience with, at will.

Immortal.

--

Burhendurur looked at the box in Erick’s hands, and at Erick, worrying. But then Erick dismissed the box in front of Burhendurur, and the man relaxed. The Death Dragon said, “Thank you, my king.”

‘Thank you’ meant a big deal coming from Burhendurur, from someone who had lived in Ar’Cosmos his whole life.

Erick said, “So does ‘dead things’ mean dead skin and the dead parts of trees?”

“Bones, mostly. Everything else is too ephemeral to really grasp.”

“None of this capability was in your resume.”

“And it would not have been right to include those, either. We do not share things like this with those who are not dragons, no matter their power or our allegiances. The exposure of one’s true draconic self is a highly private matter, for showing off these sorts of things means your death if others should become aware of exactly what you can do.”

“A lot of things mean that.”

“… True. I suppose our foibles must be odd to someone in your position.”

“And I’m not from this world, too,” Erick said, smirking.

“… I have a book I wish to let you borrow and then return. It is a book of proper etiquette among dragons. Rules for approaching each other. Rules for displaying details of oneself, including, uh, wearing your horns like you should. It is a trifle of propriety to learn these small things, and in return, dealing with each other carries much less risk of destruction to the surroundings, or to each other’s properties.”

Erick grinned a little, saying, “I would like to read that—”

“There is a complication,” Poi said, interrupting the conversation. “Zenipeq is ready, but she brings three guards and one surprise. You will know of the surprise person once they are here, in this space. The coming conversation will involve them as well. She is unwilling to tell me who the new person is; only that you know them and would approve of their inclusion as the unannounced replacement for her previously-agreed upon fourth guard. Zenipeq seems sincere.”

Erick’s instincts were to allow it.

He asked Burhendurur, “Thoughts?”

“I would allow it. She has always traded fairly with Ar’Cosmos, and she might be surprising us with a last minute change, but she is still telling us that there is a change, and is asking us to allow it. She is likely not lying.”

“Even when it comes to the possible end of her life?”

“Especially then.”

Erick had already asked Poi if he wanted to be here for this, but he asked again, “And you want to be here for this?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then tell her that I’ll be opening the [Gate] at the agreed upon location. [Zone of Peace] is in effect.”

“She agrees, and is ready.”

Far away, on a mountainside to the north of the Wasteland Kingdoms, Erick had Ophiel cast a [Zone of Peace], and then he opened a [Gate] from there to this [Fairy Stronghold] in the Crystal Forest. Inside his Stronghold, a ring of lightning twenty meters ripped open, revealing that mountainside.

Erick watched a cloud of ice that hovered in the distance, between mountain peaks. It was a very conspicuous cloud, because while it was a kilometer across and rather fluffy, it was a shade too blue to be anything but a magical effect.

That cloud looked at Erick, and then it shifted, twisting and collapsing into one human woman with pale white skin and frost in her blue hair, and with a gossamer dress that floated around her like she was underwater. Her hair floated in that same way, Erick saw. Behind her were four people in full-body covering pale-blue armor. All of Zenipeq’s people were orcol-sized, which could have been an affectation, or a way to hide the one among them who was the odd inclusion.

As a group, Zenipeq floated forward, carrying her people behind her on airy Platforms made of mist.

She had no horns that Erick could see, though her whole ‘airy mist thing’ was a definite physical trait that marked her as something other than what she appeared to be, which was a rather beautiful human woman with some odd coloration.

Erick stood on his side of the [Fairy Stronghold], on his side of the lightning ring.

Zenipeq stood on her mountainside, on her side of the lightning ring.

Erick greeted her, “Greetings, Zenipeq, Ice Wraith Dragon Queen of Frostflower.”

Zenipeq breathed a little, then bowed just her head. She rose, saying, “Greetings, Erick Flatt, Benevolent Wizard King of Candlepoint and Ar’Cosmos and of Earth. Savior of Light, Fire of the Age, Conqueror of Ar’Kendrithyst, and Gatemaster. Father to Yggdrasil.”

Erick held a soft, professional smile, saying, “I am sure you have more titles, too, but I was not expecting you to go through most of mine.”

“If you have more, I will honor them.”

Erick had at least one more; ‘Dragon’. But Zenipeq did not know that yet; Erick wanted to know what kind of person Zenipeq was before he started offering that major power.

Erick gestured to his side of the meeting. “Would you care to come inside? The [Zone of Peace] protects us both.”

“I would have my extra person verify it for me, if that is alright with you.”

Erick said, “Proceed. But who is this mystery person you have brought with you?”

Erick was already looking over all of Zenipeq’s people with his mana sense, for they were in range, but as far as he could tell the people with Zenipeq were just orcols.

“That would be me,” said the man directly to Zenipeq’s left. He walked forward, past the lightning ring, saying, “It’s been a few months since I saw you last, Erick.” He glanced around, inspecting the space, then he turned back, saying, “Come on in and be quick about it.”

Erick… Was having trouble placing the man. The male orcol was using something more than simple obfuscation magics to hide himself, for he wasn’t actually hiding himself at all. He appeared like a dude that anyone would find on the streets of Treehome—

“Oh,” Erick said, thinking he might have got it. He was pretty sure this was either Quilatalap, or Syllea’s brother, Omaz. It was probably not Omaz, though, because that would be a stretch of believability. Erick would be fine with meeting Quilatalap again, though. Quilatalap had helped him quite a lot during Last Shadow’s Feast. “Hmm.”

The man who might have been Quilatalap looked to Erick and smiled beneath his mask. “Did you figure it out?”

“Maybe.”

Zenipeq and her other three people walked through the lightning ring.

Erick shut it behind them.

And now it was just the eight of them on a flat platform in a hundred meter cubic [Fairy Stronghold] somewhere in the Crystal Forest north of the Gate District.

Zenipeq bowed to Erick, and then bowed to her three people who were not the fourth, saying, “This one thanks you for your service. Please return home and ensure a smooth transition of power.”

The three unknowns had some deep emotions in their eyes and their stances. All three hesitated, but all three slammed their pale-blue armored chests with gauntleted hands, and said, “Our queen in life and death. We salute you.”

Zenipeq’s breath caught as she took one last long look at them, and then she turned back to Erick, asking, “Could you please put them somewhere safe, but not where we were? There were [Long Scry]s on us before we stepped into this place.”

Erick did so, opening a [Gate] to the side of the room that led to a beach. “This leads to the coast of the Crystal Forest, south east of Candlepoint.”

The three guards left.

Erick closed the [Gate] behind them.

And now, it was just the five of them.

Erick began, “So who is this mystery person?”

“It’s me.”

Without any visible magical effect, the remaining orcol in the room was suddenly someone else.

Quilatalap.

The undead orcol whom Erick had met at Last Shadow’s Feast, who had taught him quite a few crucial things about Soul Magic, who had protected him during that time while Erick lived in his house for a few days, until everything went to shit. This man had brought necromancy from the Old Cosmology to the New Cosmology, was a Black Priest and Holy Necromancer of Koyabez, and had Rozeta’s recommendation that he was a ‘decent’ sort of guy. But all the world hated him for his necromancy, and also because he was instrumental during the Rage Wars in ensuring the immortality of the orcol war machine. Probably more reasons besides those, too. So Quilatalap moved around a lot, escaping inquisition and crusade and otherwise. He had lived in Ar’Kendrithyst for a long while, though, pretending to be the Caretaker of the Armory; the Shade who oversaw the trials that people undertook in order to prove themselves worthy of the prizes that actual Shades had put up for the winning. He was an archlich at least 3,000 years old, with a soul that was more like a hole in the world, lined with teeth. He flexed those teeth as he winked at Erick.

“Hello again! You’ve been pretty busy since last I saw you.”

Poi went still.

Zenipeq waited her turn to speak, deferring everything to Quilatalap.

Burhendurur prostrated himself with a sudden kneel and a bow, not saying a word.

And Erick just stood there for a long moment, then he said, “Hello again, Quilatalap. How you doing?”

“Can’t complain, can’t complain. Zenipeq has treated me rather decently, but due to this dragon exodus thing, plans changed.” Quilatalap asked, “And so, I’m looking for a place to stay for a while. Got any openings at House Benevolence for anything at all? Zenipeq is looking for a new place to stay for a while, too, but as for me, I’m really just looking for some stability in my life, and I’m willing to support those who won’t try to kill or take advantage of me. Fair warning though: It’s usually better to use me to maintain some system, or something. If I’m requested to teach someone something, they usually end up learning too much and then they cause problems, of which I will not be held responsible.”

“Uh…” Erick said, “Yes. Yup. Sounds— Uh. Hold on. I need to think for a minute.”

Quilatalap smiled a little, waiting.

Burhendurur was still prostrated on the ground, but he was suddenly very, very happy about everything. He was also a little bit insanely mad jealous of Erick, though he was doing a very good job of hiding that, as his face was against the floor. Everyone in the room either had mana sense or mental senses, though, so he wasn’t doing nearly as good a job of hiding himself as he hoped he was.

Poi was concerned, but not nearly as concerned as he had been moments before.

Erick directed his thoughts to Quilatalap’s question: did he want the man here in Candlepoint?

Erick’s instinct was to say yes.

Quilatalap was very much an amoral sort of person, but he was not a bad person. When he was running the Armory, he ensured traps and summoned creatures killed whoever tried coming through that place, but he also [True Resurrection]ed people who died, and offered them an ‘out’; they could give up on their selected difficulty of trial, and just leave. No harm, no foul. If people persisted, though, he let them die.

When he was undercover as a Shade, Killzone’s thoughts on the man were mostly of the Armory, and a ‘don’t go there’ sort of warning.

Silverite did not like necromancers, but Silverite and Quilatalap were both Priests of Koyabez, and she didn’t really have too much evil to say about Quilatalap. She still hated him, though. Probably for a bunch of different actual reasons, too.

But Quilatalap could be a valuable resource.

Where would Erick put him, though?

Erick decided to just ask him, “Got any preference for a placement?”

Quilatalap smiled. “I could help out with Enforcement patrols, or perhaps I can reprise my role as Caretaker the Shade and run a library, or something like that. I’m fine with interacting with people, but I’m serious when I say that people always try to worm knowledge out of me and they usually can.”

Erick did not need to be a Mind Mage to know that Burhendurur was absolutely livid with jealousy, and if Erick did not choose Enforcement, then—

Erick looked down at Burhendurur, and said, “Stop that, Burhendurur.”

Burhendurur froze.

Erick said to Quilatalap, “I want other people to learn how to [Reincarnation]. Therefore, I want you to make a library at House Benevolence, and when we get students who are vetted through… I don’t know. All six offices? And me? Then you can teach them whatever you want to teach them, and also [Reincarnation], which I will teach to you when I am able. No teaching outside of those specific parameters, though… Uh… And I’m sure I’ll have more to say about that later.”

Quilatalap’s eyes went wide. “Oh wow. Okay! Yes. I agree. Sounds great to me. I. Uh. I got some gifts. I thought it might be more difficult to work that out. Glad to see I was mistaken. You can still have the gifts. Mostly magical plants.”

“Details to be worked out later. Before that, though,” Erick asked, “Do you vet Zenipeq?”

Zenipeq’s eyes went wide. This was it. She prepared herself as much as she could.

She was probably preparing herself for the wrong thing, though.

Quilatalap said, “Sure. She’s a pretty stable force. Has been for around 700 years. Few incidents with Dragon Curse slipping, but other than that she’s been as fine as any other leader of nations out there. After [Reincarnation] she’ll have lost everything, though, so it’ll take her a good 50 years to get it all back. She’d be good as an advisor in that time, if you want her for that. Any role is acceptable, though.”

All that boded well for Zenipeq, and she knew it.

Erick asked her, “I have a few things I want to change about how you run Frostflower, Zenipeq, and then we can talk about the rest.”

To his side, Burhendurur slowly rose, now that the conversation was not about Quilatalap; he would prostrate himself before the Archlich of Necromancy itself, but he would not do so regarding a fellow dragon.

Zenipeq’s frost-blue eyes narrowed. Her floating dress and hair turned frosty, and stiffer. “I will not be able to return there for quite some time, and possibly never, Wizard Flatt. It is my understanding that [Reincarnation] will strip everything from me, including my [Dragon Body] and my lichdom. If it will not affect my lichdom then… I still cannot return, for I will be bereft of my magic.”

Erick nodded, then asked, “And if I can help you retake your land? I am not interested in disturbing the order of the world more than I already have, and so I am trying to mitigate the upsets of the Dragon Exodus.”

Zenipeq’s eyes went wide again. She cautiously asked, “What requests do you have of me?”

“Acceptance of International Common Law in Frostflower. Ceasing all construction of magical items that come about through the use of criminal souls. You will pay for and maintain a Gate which will be opened in a quarantine zone set outside of Candlepoint lands, connecting to somewhere to be decided in Frostflower lands. Trade will happen, of some sort, which is what I understand you do all the time with Ar’Cosmos anyway. And you will comply with—” Erick interrupted himself. He had been about to say, ‘comply with Best Necromancy Practices, as outlined in the Arcanaeum Consortium Charter.’ as Zolan had suggested, but he could already tell that he was driving swords into Zenipeq’s soul with every extra demand. So instead, he said, “And that’s it.”

Zenipeq’s flowing blue hair and dress turned absolutely frosty, solidifying around her like armor. “You would have me return to my own lands a conqueror, to usurp my people and my way of life. All for what? Lesser power and needing constant vigilance, and constantly tied to Candlepoint and to you, constantly requesting power when what I have is not enough? You would turn me into a lapcat, and when I finally grow tired of your demands I would either kill you, or you would kill me, and—”

Quilatalap rapidly said, “Zeni.”

“What!” Zenipeq demanded. “He knows what he is doing! Look at him!”

Quilatalap said, “Please excuse her, Erick. She’s been a bit depressive since this whole Exodus thing—”

“And your refusal to answer my letter for four days didn’t help!” Zenipeq yelled, “Erick.”

“She would never turn on you if you helped her get her power back.”

“Quilatalap!” Zeni said, “You can’t just tell him that!” And then she looked at Erick, and panic subsumed her, and then came depression. She twisted in on herself and collapsed into a pile of blue mist and frost. “Fuck, I’m gonna die. I fucked it all up.” Her voice trailed into itself, “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Erick said, “I could already tell that she was just testing me, but thank you anyway, Quilatalap. Dragons seem to naturally wear their emotions like it doesn’t matter that people know what they’re thinking.”

Quilatalap said, “I think it’s more that they want people to know that they’re thinking… Most of the time.”

“Ah. Well. That’s true, too.” Erick said, “Anyway! I won’t be helping you take back your nation, anyway, because you’re going to do that yourself. Another option has come available besides [Reincarnation]. Thanks to a bunch of gods deciding they wanted me to be a whole lot stronger than I was before, I’m a Benevolence Dragon, and I can do that for you through a single spell which I already have, and which already worked on another dragon about two hours ago.”

Zenipeq froze in her mist form. Quite literally, too. Instead of being a pile of mist, she was a twist of unmoving frost.

Quilatalap looked at Erick. “Oh. Ah. Ha! I didn’t think you’d go through with that. Not in that way, anyway.”

“I thought about a Big Wizard solution, but everyone wanted me to go through established magics.” Erick said to Zenipeq’s frozen form, “If you agreed to some International Common Law, ceasing the punitive uses of souls, and the Gate to Frostflower, then I can transform you into a Benevolence Dragon right now. It’s gonna fucking hurt, though. Hurt you, I mean. I’ll be fine. Can undead accept Healing Magic? Because I had to use a lot of [Greater Treat Wounds] the last time and that was a mess.” Erick said, “I ended up with about a full dragon’s dismembered body on a floor very similar to this one.”

As Erick spoke, Zenipeq’s frozen form gradually thawed. When he finished, in one smooth motion, Zenipeq reconstituted herself into her human-ish woman form. “I accept your Benevolence, and your requests, though my city is not a monarchy, and so it will take time to run your Common International Law request through the Lords Court.”

“… Not a monarchy?”

“A democratically-elected Lords Court makes the laws.”

Erick stood a bit straighter. “Ah… Huh. Are there living people on that court?”

Zenipeq stared as one would stare at a peculiar bug she found on the floor. “… You wouldn’t put children in charge of the law, would you— Ah. Wait. You’re young. You would. Uh…” She paused. “I can put forth ballots to try and get at least one or two mortals on the court… That will take time, too.”

“One or two seats out of how many?”

Zenipeq thought about lying. Then she thought better. “100.”

“… Uh huh.” Erick asked, “And the population of mortals to immortals?”

“Oh like you’re any better! You got democracy here at all? No you do not.”

“It’s in the works. Long term plans. But I’m still trying to build the damned place, though, and you’re at 700+ years old.”

“… A thousand mortals to one lich.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

“I built the place for liches! Not always-dying mortals! The mortals just sort of happened. I try to do right by them but it’s hard to care about ephemeral things that can die at any damned time for any reason at all. They fall out of bed and die!” Zenipeq said, “And don’t get me started on babies. Ugh!”

Despite her words, her attitude was great.

When she was a Benevolence dragon she’d probably see a lot of things differently, anyway.

So Erick confidently said, “I’m ready to transform you whenever you want.”

Zenipeq froze again. “What? You are? After what I just said? I didn’t give you any confirmation at all that I would actually change how we do things over there?”

Erick smiled softly, saying, “I’m pretty confident that this will turn out well.”

“… Are you now?”

“Yup.”

“… Fuck it. Let’s do this. Do I need to be a dragon, or do you need my soul, or what?”

“… I honestly do not know how this works on liches.”

Quilatalap suggested, “Let’s do this in a way in which it is least likely to go weird.” And then he brought out a shining blue crystal from a pocket. “This is Zenipeq.”

Zenipeq froze again upon seeing that little blue crystal. Her eyes darting from the object to Erick, and then back to Quilatalap. She was unsure.

Quilatalap held it out to Zenipeq, saying, “I think we’re safe enough, Zeni, and you should hand it off yourself. This is it.”

Zenipeq steeled herself, and then she strode over to Quilatalap. She did not physically pick up the blue gem; she held out her hand and the gem came to her without any visible magic. And then she clutched the gem to her chest, walked toward Erick, and held herself out in the air, about a meter from him.

“This is me. My real form. My body is a summoned construct, like all liches.” Zenipeq whispered, “I entrust myself to you.”

And the blue gem was not really a gem at all. It was a flowerbud about the size of a fist made of ice and sapphires and glowing blue-white magic. It hummed.

Erick looked to Poi.

Poi nodded; no trickery.

Erick asked, “Do you want to do an exchange of [Dragon Body]s?”

Zenipeq startled. “Oh! Uh. That old custom? Uh… How does it— Ah. Here. This is mine. Please give it back when you are done with it, or break it.”

Erick smiled a little bit as Burhendurur shook his head.

--

Dragon Body, Permanently Active, 0 mana

<absolute damage reduction 25>, <double range>, <double mana regeneration>, <constant control over all mist and mindless ghosts>

Assume a draconic form based on your nature, at will, gaining <massively increased range>, <massively increased control and power of all soul-based spellwork>

Assume a new Familiar Form of any type you have experience with, at will.

Immortal.

--

Erick said, “I'll give it back to you afterward, since you’re going to have a new one.”

Zenipeq stood straight. “Ah…” She looked a bit sad. “Thank you.”

Erick cast his [Blessing of Draconic Benevolence].

It was not nearly as messy as with Al, but as the air filled with breaking razors of ice and a whole lot of [Cleanse] and the roars of a room full of mist in pain, Erick blipped Poi out of there, as they planned on if something like this should happen.

When the thrashing and crashing was over, Zenipeq’s phylactery was a pile of broken ice and chipped sapphires, scattered by an errant tail swipe that clipped Erick, but which did nothing but break his shirt a little. A [Mend] fixed that.

And now, Zenipeq was a 50-meter-long sleeping dragon, sprawled across the room like a tangle of blue-white 3-meter-wide pipes.

Quilatalap announced, “Well that was something I have never actually seen before. I was hoping to see a [Reincarnation], but that was almost better.” He looked to Erick. “So? Can I still stay with you?”

“Yes. Glad to have you. Zenipeq is going back to Frostflower, though.”

Quilatalap grinned. “I think you made a friend-for-eternity there, Erick.”

“Good news all around, then.”

Burhendurur had both a sudden heart attack upon hearing that Quilatalap staying was ever in question, and then sudden relief when Erick confirmed that Quilatalap was staying. He never said a word, though. He was still occupied with looking at Zenipeq.

Erick said to Quilatalap, “I’ve got more meetings like this and I was not expecting her to need to sleep. Are you going to look after her until she wakes? Because I was going to leave an Ophiel here for that purpose. What do you want to do? Also, I made a house for you on Yggdrasil’s branches already. It’s a [Fairy Stronghold], though, so I need to actually show you the place.”

“I’ll stay here until she wakes.” Quilatalap asked, “I’ll take a [Gate] to the new house for a moment though, to see the door and whatnot. I can take it from there.”

Erick opened a [Gate] beside Quilatalap. “There you go.”

Quilatalap didn’t need to go through to see the space; mana sense was enough. “Ah. That looks nice. Thanks, Erick— Oh. I would like to see a [Reincarnation], if you don’t mind. Whenever you get around to the next one. Or the one after. Also, I’d like to teach you [True Resurrection] when you have some time. Maybe you can make real use of that spell, unlike Messalina.”

“… I have a lot of thoughts on that, but mostly, I kinda want to stay out of the [True Resurrection] debate.”

Quilatalap furrowed his brow a little bit. “It’s not really a debate. But… We can talk later?”

“Yes. Want me to leave the [Gate] to your house open for you?”

“Nope. Thanks though.”

“Then I’m off to meet another dragon.” Erick closed that [Gate] and opened another, into a different space almost exactly like this one, but in another location. “Come on, Burhendurur— Oh yeah. Burhendurur. My Overseer of Enforcement. Quilatalap… And you know him.”

Burhendurur bowed deeply to Quilatalap, saying, “It is an honor, sir Quilatalap, to stand in your presence and—”

“Come on, Burhendurur!” Erick called from the other side of the [Gate].

Quilatalap said to Burhendurur, “I’m sure we’ll talk more later, too.”

Burhendurur rapidly followed Erick, though it was clearly under duress.

Erick closed the [Gate], and then said to Burhendurur, “A fan, I take it?”

Burhendurur started gushing facts and stories and did not stop until Poi came back and the next meeting started.

- - - -

Erick had no idea who this guy was, only that he was some person from the Greensoil Republic who kept a low profile and could not stand other dragons. He wanted to go back home and never show up on anyone’s radar at all. He felt being a dragon was a curse, in more ways than the literal.

Burhendurur thought he was being dramatic, but he did not express that opinion too loudly.

After confirming that the man’s words were true through a Mind-Mage-backed truth telling, which Poi administered, Erick had to stop the meeting, and get Aisha and Teressa involved. The dragon was absolutely miserable as a dragon, but Erick saw that he could be happier if he was Paradox’ed. In a sudden pang of conscience, Erick did not want to deprive the world of a possible good thing, and he certainly didn’t want to give this guy the death he seemed to crave, but was unwilling to follow through with himself.

Burhendurur thought Erick was being dramatic, too.

With Teressa and Aisha standing in front of the guy, they confirmed what Erick had already suspected.

So Erick sent Teressa and Aisha back, and then asked the man simply known as ‘Scutt’, “Do you want to be a Benevolence Dragon and work for me, Scutt?”

For one brief shining moment, Scutt looked like hope had arrived. And then he said, “No. This is a curse. I want it gone. This thing with the fairy and your option of [Reincarnation] is just my final impetus to do what I should have done a long time ago; to truly leave this life behind.”

“… Are you sure?”

Both Teressa and Aisha had said that Scutt would make a fine Benevolence dragon, but here he was saying ‘no’? Erick wasn’t going to force his own opinions onto the man, but he felt Scutt was making the wrong decision. And by a lot. Privately, Burhendurur agreed with Erick.

“Yes. [Reincarnation], please.”

… Maybe he could regain his draconic self later, and Erick could Benevolence it then.

Yes.

That could work.

“Okay. So you wrote out the [Reincarnation] paperwork but it was… Thin.” Thin to the point of failure to complete the assignment, actually. “Is there anything you haven’t listed that you want specifically?”

“I want a normal human male body. Nothing special, at all. And I want a future where I can actually love someone again. A woman, I think. That’s always easier to find. Age is whatever. 20? Sure. 20 is usually a good age.”

“… Want a place at Candlepoint? We’re taking refugees.”

Scutt stood up straight. “Yes. I do. Uh. Oh. Can I be good with money, this time? I’ve never been good with money before… Can you… Can you do that? I’ll find a job on my own, though… I don’t like being known by powers like you. Sorry. I probably should have cared about that paperwork more but… I just don’t.”

“… I can do all of that and more Scutt. Are you ready?”

“I am. Please end this life and give me something better.”

“… I will do exactly that.”

Erick put him under with a [Merciful Ether].

And then he turned to Poi, “Oh holy fuck, Poi. My gods. What do I do here?”

Burhendurur said, “He’s not a dragon I would want in my House. That is more than enough answer.” He muttered, “Though you didn’t ask me.”

Poi dropped the mask he had kept up in the face of Scutt. “Wow that guy is fucking depressed. But. Uh. You can’t overwrite his wants. Even if he knows he’s making a bad decision and you know it’s bad and everything here is bad… You have to do the [Reincarnation]. Uh… Make him antifragile and good with numbers and paperwork. Able to find joy in normal life, too. Don’t overdo it, though; that’s almost just as bad— Ah. And Zenipeq is awake and gone. Quilatalap is asking to see your next [Reincarnation].”

While Burhendurur stood straight and attentive again, Poi’s words made Erick feel better about ‘killing 400ish people’ by [Reincarnation]ing Scutt.

“Quilatalap is still in that room?”

“Yes.”

Erick had Quilatalap come through a [Gate], into the new room, and then he began explaining what he was going to do. He did not talk about the moral quandary with Quilatalap, because if Quilatalap said a single word to change his mind, Erick would probably change his mind, even if it was going against Scutt’s wishes. Quilatalap rapidly turned interested as he looked to Scutt, laying on the floor, softly breathing in ether and breathing out thick air.

Burhendurur could not take his eyes off of Quilatalap, though.

… Perhaps it was time to send him back to the House. His opinion was valuable, and he wanted the man to interview these dragons with him, but he was clearly distracted to the point of problems. Erick would tell the man this before the next [Reincarnation].

With a few quick movements of his sunform, Erick had undressed Scutt and laid him back down. He was currently an unassuming male of about 35. Erick had the impression that Scutt had transformed through this same variation of a form for a long, long time.

Erick began.

Scutt’s body began to reshape as Erick worked, and though he stayed within Scutt’s requested parameters, he did make the man healthier than average, and higher Statted then average, and just a little bit better in every possible way. The guy could hate Erick for that if he wished, but Erick wasn’t about to create a guy who couldn’t find some joy in himself, for the man who had been Scutt had clearly not cared about himself at all.

While Erick was doing that, the world also fractured with a thousand prismatic images of possible futures, and Erick saw Scutt in gutter after gutter, or knifing another hobo, or stealing bread from a bakery. Strangely enough, Erick saw no dragons in his future; the magic had already cleaned the Dragon Essence from the man.

Erick still had to pan far through all the bad futures to find a good one, though. And he did.

It was exactly what Scutt had asked for.

Scutt was dressed well. He had a wife and kids and a nice home on the lakeside, and money in the bank. Food on the table, and a little smile on his face. A kid knocked over a vase, breaking it, and Scutt only laughed and [Mend]ed it back to wholeness.

Erick picked that one.

And Scutt solidified.

The reborn Scutt then went through a [Gate], sleeping the whole way, to land on a nice fluffy bed in a nice room in a new [Fairy Stronghold] apartment on Yggdrasil’s boughs. He’d wake up naturally later, at which point Erick would inform him of his new options. He could probably hook up with Enforcement and gain some levels, and then move on with his life. Directly back to Candlepoint? Maybe he could look for a job on Market Street? Probably. He’d be good at those sorts of jobs and that sort of life, Erick thought.

Either way, Erick would be doing the next interview a bit differently. He looked to Burhendurur, and Poi, and Poi knew what Erick was asking. Within a moment, Burhehdurur went stiff and then worried—

Quilatalap asked, “So that was all monumentally fascinating. Can I see more?”

“Of course.” Erick added, “You can see the whole thing from start to end. Want to dress up like your previous illusion?”

Quilatalap said, “I can do better than that.”

And then he transformed into a copy of Teressa.

Everything was perfect. From Teressa’s body, to the color of her grey-white soul, to the small white sparkle she had in her eyes these days.

His voice was all wrong, though, as he asked, “What do you think, Boss?”

“… No. Never. No. No impersonation ever, please.” Erick narrowed his eyes. “But how did you get everything right except for the voice?”

“Personal choice,” Quilatalap said in Teressa’s voice. And then he switched back to himself, all the way, speaking in his own voice, “I like my own voice.”

Erick went, “Ahh.”

Burhendurur, who was still stiff, had finally decided to engage his mouth, “Uh. Sir. Do you want me to stay for the rest? I have… Duties to attend to.”

“Quite all right, Burhendurur.” Erick opened a [Gate] for the man back to the House. “I’m sure there will be lots of talking later.”

Burhendurur turned to Quilatalap and bowed deeply, then he walked through the [Gate], and Erick closed it.

“Oh thank the gods.” Quilatalap said, “The Death Dragons all love me a lot but… They can be a lot. Thank you, Erick.”

Erick smiled a little at that. He opened a [Gate] to the next meeting spot. “Onto the next one.” He walked through and Poi followed at his side, while Quilatalap trailed a little. He said to Poi, “I feel I should request an emergency therapist to help sort out the next one, if that same thing should happen again.”

“I will ask for one?”

“Please do so.”

Quilatalap asked, “Was there something wrong with that Scutt guy? Perhaps I can help.”

Erick did really want to bounce what had happened off of someone who had probably seen similar stories, and who wasn’t a dragon with odd sensibilities, and so he told Quilatalap. Quilatalap did not want to answer yet, but he was thankful that Erick had chosen to include him in his thoughts, and yes, it had been a murky decision; he couldn’t have done any better.

“I have found that there is no helping people at the bottom of a barrel that will not end up being self-serving in some way, but there are ways to honor that sort of bottoming out that lead to less destructive actions in the future… Though I am, historically, terrible at making these sorts of decisions.” Quilatalap said, “I feel that you made the right decision to go along with the man’s decision, even if it felt wrong. Going the other way leads to tyranny, and I have been down that route before, too. Never ends up well.”

Erick felt a bit better at that.

He still felt bad about the loss of a dragon. He had essentially just killed around 400 people, according to how the mana needs of Veird saw it—

“I’ve got a therapist lined up, Erick,” Poi said.

Soon, an orangescale woman walked through a [Gate], into the space.

“Hello Mind Mage Gabby. A pleasure to meet you. If you do not mind, today is very busy and I cannot spare the time to fully greet you. I will trust Poi’s judgment that you are qualified.”

Gabby bowed professionally, saying, “I am ready to work, Wizard Flatt. Mister Fulisade has made me aware of what is happening, and I will keep your confidence. In the efforts of full disclosure, though, I will likely be praying to Rozeta for a few of these, though my professional opinion will take precedent over the desires of goddesses.”

“… Ah.” Erick decided, “That’s fine.”

He probably could have asked Rozeta, too, but she had already said her piece and so had all the other gods; by implication, they wanted Benevolence Dragons, but they were leaving it up to Erick to determine the final number.

Gabby bowed again.

Quilatalap looked at Erick, in something like approval.

Poi was Poi; holding back all judgment unless it was needed and wanted.

Erick said, “Onto the next one.”

- - - -

Three dragons turned out to be normal people living in their parts of the world, but while one was a dragonkin-looking citizen from the Wasteland Kingdoms with a family of the same, the other two were basically woodsmen, living off the land and as far away from other people as they could possibly get.

Erick conferred with his people on those three cases, and each time they came back with the same answer: form a contract of some sort, verbal or otherwise, demanding some obeisance to House Benevolence or to himself, and then ask if they wanted to be Benevolence Dragons.

All three jumped at the chance, and readily pledged fealty.

Erick asked the dragonkin-looking dragon from the Wasteland to move to Candlepoint and bring whatever business with him that he could. He happily chose to come to Candlepoint and bring his family with him. Erick was glad for that. The dragonkin man’s case was an odd case, though, because according to everything Erick knew dragons never adopted the form of dragonkin (for a complicated set of reasons, for sure), and yet here was a dragon that broke that usual mold.

Soon, that 60 meter long, dark red dragon became a similarly long rose-quartz-like dragon. Erick gained a pile of red dragon parts for his collection, and a very, very happy dragonkin for Candlepoint. A whole family, too. Erick informed Zolan to help the new guy to fit in somewhere, and then Erick sent the new guy off.

The two woodsmen were an orcol and a harpy.

From them, Erick gained some dragons who wanted to help turn the Crystal Forest back into a real forest, and two more piles of body parts; a pile of green, and a pile of bright magenta.

Nine other dragons just wanted to end it all, just like Scutt.

After confirming their desires and checking for opinions with Gabby and Quilatalap and Poi, Erick gave them all the best futures he could, plucked from webs full of small and large horrors like he was salvaging wreckage from a hurricane-hit house. He sent those new people off to a hidden home in the heights of Yggdrasil, to sleep off their transformation in the same apartment housing as Scutt.

And that was all his meetings for the day.

He had effectively killed anywhere from 2500 to 4000 people, if you counted mana production as ‘people’, which Rozeta and the Script did. Monsters apparently counted for mana production too, though, and who the fuck knew how many monsters Erick had ever killed. Millions, at least.

Fuck, was he deep in the mana hole.

And the Chelation War! Holy shit 4 million dead. 40 million mana per year. Not to mention all the knock on deaths due to disruption of civilization.

Gah!

Hopefully mana wouldn’t become a real problem because of him, but.

Shit…

Erick put those thoughts out of his mind for now. He had another meeting.

As the sun set, and Erick emplaced himself alone in one of his hidden spaces, he called out, “I know you’re there, Fairy Moon. You’ve been poking around this entire day and it’s gotten worse here at the end.”

Fairy Moon stepped out of the air, atop the sunset stone, seeming like a bit of pink and green Springtime had come to Veird. She looked a little cross, but there was no one else in this space for her to play to a crowd; Erick had ensured that. As much as he could, anyway.

Erick said, “You have some problem with me growing my House?”

Fairy Moon’s lips squished together as she eyed him. “Not… Necessarily.”

“What’s the problem, then? Because I’m going to do this a lot more. I have been informed that I’ve got something like 250 dragons or more headed my way as fast as they can get here safely. I’ll be lucky to find maybe 10% of them who still want to be dragons, though. The Curse is worse than I had imagined.”

Fairy Moon still looked perturbed.

“… Just say it, Fairy Moon. Whatever you want to say just say—”

“Convince them to come to Ar’Cosmos.” Fairy Moon said, “I could use the mana.”

“Oh. That reminds me. I want your Wizards. I want to keep them safe from the oddities of Fae Magic.”

Fairy Moon stood taller. She still wasn’t very tall. “I am securing them safe and there is nothing negative about fairy anointings!

Erick breathed out a little, then he said, “Fairy Moon. We are currently alone, I think. I would like some more honesty from you. Why are you demanding dragons exit this existence?” Erick shook his head a little bit, then said, “Why is [Renew] not enough?”

Fairy Moon paused, apprehensive.

Erick wore his concern openly as he asked, “If you need mana, why am I getting 100,000 refugees? What’s going on in Ar’Cosmos, Fairy Moon? For real, too. Illustrious gave me her story, but I want yours.” He wanted to ask after the truth of the Dragon Curse, to know if Fairy Moon had really plotted to either murder every single person in the world, or force Rozeta to expand the Bands of Intent on Elemental Fae to infinity. Had Melemizargo really stepped in and prevented that tragedy? What was the truth of what had happened between Kirginatharp and Idyrvamikor that caused the Curse in the first place? But he did not. None of that really mattered right now. “I want to know how to fix everything I can fix, and if there is some problem happening in Ar’Cosmos, then I want to help fix it.”

Fairy Moon looked at Erick, weighing a thousand things in her ancient mind. And then she said, “I have a list of five dragons who are wonderful, but who threaten stability. Take them into House Benevolence and get them out of my hair.”

“… I want to believe you. So I am going to. But. Fairy Moon. If this is a trick of any sort I will be cross. Me completing this request and it turning out well will go a long way to rebuilding the very fragile relationship between us, if it is an honest request and it will not lead to some potentially Veird-damaging end.” Erick looked at her. “With all that said: Is this still the request you have of me?”

Fairy Moon looked at Erick…

She continued to look at him, weighing thoughts in her mind.

She said, “I have six dragons that I remit to reformation through Benevolence, and four that need not be dragons a day longer. Ten total. The final four you may make of what you wish, but I suggest you sever them from their draconic truth. None of them have done me or mine any devilry but they plot and plunder the goodwill of my green land.” She said, “The destitute dragons you divested of their essence would have made exemplary soldiers for my side, and I wish you wouldn’t have done that. You should have sent them to Ar’Cosmos.”

“Okay.” Erick gestured to the side and conjured some [Fairy Item] chairs and a small table, saying, “Tell me about Ar’Cosmos, and about these troublesome dragons of yours.”

Fairy Moon did.

At the end of it, Erick did not believe that Fairy Moon was trying to pull one over on him. He just felt the weight of it all.

Six Free Dragons that were exemplars of the best the world had to offer. Scions of industry or rulers or professional killers of monsters, in Northern Nelboor and the Greensoil Republic and Archipelago Nergal and the Underworld. They had banded together through intermediaries upon hearing Fairy Moon’s ultimatum. Once they had entered Ar’Cosmos they had met up, and they had begun organizing. They were a threat to the rule of Houses. Ultimately, they would cause a civil war. Not right now. But it was already starting. Lines were being drawn.

Even now those six Free Dragons had managed to collect more support from other dragons, rapidly gaining 6 more votes in the Rotunda, and 4 maybes. The whole Free Dragon faction was falling under their sway, and they would rapidly outnumber the House Dragons within a year.

The Houses needed a way to get rid of these types of dragons without killing them, for that would turn all the Free Dragons against them in a very, very quick civil war. Even as it was going, though, the Houses would have to implement drastic reforms that would curb the power of the Free Dragons.

That would just bury the civil war to let it fester and grow until it burst forth in ten or twenty years.

And so, Erick felt a weight. It was probably the weight of a crown.

He could let that draconic civil war happen and pick up the pieces afterward, and lose the support of House Carnage and Death and Fae, as they all decided to split from his own House Benevolence. Or, he could openly support the violent reformation of Ar’Cosmos and lose the other Houses and gain the unorganized Free Dragons. Or, he could try to manage a softer transformation of draconic society, a society he wasn’t actually a part of even though he was a dragon, into something nicer. Which, to be fair, was likely an impossibility. The dragons of Ar’Cosmos were already rather civil in their Rotunda, with their large meetings and the open discussion of problems. In that way, Erick suspected that the people of Ar’Cosmos (or the dragons, anyway) were probably as democratic as a place like Frostflower, where liches ruled above all in their citadel of frozen death.

Still, though, the ‘proper response’ here was to try for some sort of reconciliation between the Free Dragons and the House Dragons.

Except…

Like Erick had experienced with Phagar and the duck pond, Erick might have mostly-unlimited resources, he did not have unlimited space in his life for all these problems.

The sun was far below the horizon by the time Fairy Moon had finished explaining and Erick had finished thinking. She looked at him now, with her pink and green eyes, awaiting his decision.

Erick looked up from the ground, to Fairy Moon, and said, “Make them an offer, and I stress that it is an offer… One moment.” Erick opened a small [Gate] that led to his office. With a quick bit of sunform, he grabbed some paper and a pen, and then closed the [Gate]. “I will attempt to help you with your problem of the Houses losing power by making an offer of asylum to these dragons you deem problematic, but still good people.” He started writing, saying, “The actual offer to them will be in this writing: I, Erick Flatt, Wizard of Benevolence and of newly transformed Draconic Benevolence, do offer asylum from the Fairy Pact and the Dragon Exodus to all qualifying dragons. To those deemed worthy and able to maintain good relations with the people and societies of Veird, I offer transformation to Benevolence Dragon, but I demand a resettlement of those dragons into my kingdoms in the Crystal Forest, where you will receive the opportunities of the Gate Network, and of Candlepoint in raising new lands on the Crystal Forest. Details to follow. Beware those who seek to test my generosity, and who come to me with subterfuge in their souls. Be aware, that just because you will remain a dragon does not mean you will get special treatment from me or mine, or exemptions from the laws of my land.

“To those seeking simply to end the torment of the Dragon Curse, and of Draconic existence entirely, I offer [Reincarnation]s and support to regain a small amount of levels. I can put you anywhere in the world after that, though there will be no further easy contact between you and I.

“[Reincarnation] is much easier to qualify for than a Benevolencing, and I do not care about money or bribes at all. Do not seek to sway me with anything other than your honest words and plans for a better, more cooperative future under the auspices of House Benevolence.” Erick paused his writing, asking, “Will House Fae be okay with doing the organization for this? With presenting me these dragons such that they do not meet or cause a fight? I won’t be going into Ar’Cosmos myself.”

Fairy Moon had looked utterly thrilled. She had been about to suggest that Erick could come to Ar’Cosmos to do all this, too. But then Erick’s final words came down. Fairy Moon lost some of her joy, but she brushed over it, saying, “I had hoped to have for you and with you a feast of coronal celebration for your own rise to king, but we can do that some other season. Yes; the Houses of Ar’Cosmos will organize this ordainment. I assume you will want to ascertain the applicants yourself, before you make of them what you will?”

“Yes— Ah. And these.” Erick opened up another small [Gate] into his office and pulled out a dozen copies of the Rules and Regulations of Cities of Candlepoint, and accompanying city applications. He laid all of that paperwork on Fairy Moon’s side of their small table, saying, “I want the dragons who will think about doing this to think long and hard about how they want to do this. I feel I would prefer them joining existing structures of Candlepoint and otherwise, but they could also try their hands at making some new cities out in the sands, or in the budding greenery I have growing around here. I already have two Benevolence Dragons out there doing just that; transforming the land into green. They’re just woodsmen, though, and they like that. Actual city mayors would be different, and by a lot. Any city of proper size, as outlined in those rules and regulations, will get a seat on the Governor’s Court, and they’ll eventually be helping to make the laws and regulations around here. I’m still king, and of any Benevolence Dragons, I am their overlord above all.”

Fairy Moon smiled gently. She picked up the paperwork, saying, “Most appreciated.”

“I look forward to peaceful transitions, too, Fairy Moon, if we can [Strike] it.”

Fairy Moon smiled brightly. “I look forward to finally seeing family again.” And then she bowed, and was gone.

… Right. That.

Erick simply sat there in that post-sunset space for a little while, thinking. He had made the right call. It certainly felt that way, anyway. It was also supremely disheartening to hear that Fairy Moon was so focused on getting her family back to the detriment of all the rest of the world, but…

Not that surprising, really.

- - - -

Quilatalap stood beside his table in one of his hidden laboratories that he didn’t mind the world finding if they should happen to go looking, and someone was always looking. But he had to do some tests. Erick’s [Reincarnation] was a marvel of necromancy, and yes, he had used an entirely new Element in order to do it, but all the rest of it was well done, too. The Blood Magic, in particular, was imaginative on a level that Quilatalap had rarely ever encountered.

“Not that surprising, in retrospect,” Quilatalap mumbled to himself, as he planted some beans into different pots and then raised them to 2-decimeter-tall flowering things. “He’s been able to search through Blood markers for a very long time, through [Cascade Imaging].”

Which was yet another part of Erick’s magic which Quilatalap wasn’t wholly sure about.

He didn’t know much about light and he didn’t really care; that part of Erick’s [Cascade Imaging] didn’t concern him.

But Quilatalap’s entire Truth was the Truth of Life Unending, with a major focus on fleshy-types of life. He should have understood everything that Erick was doing, flesh-wise, in every single one of his transformations. And so, Quilatalap was here.

Growing plants.

Contrary to the persona he showed to the world, Quilatalap was fully capable of doing plant magics, but that stuff was something he always let lag behind. Therefore, he was ‘not that good at that stuff’. It was a minor lie that he was okay with.

Quilatalap continued to [Grow] small bean plants, as one did for the study to prove that life connected to life in real markers. It was an old study that people usually only read about in very old textbooks, but Quilatalap was older than those textbooks, and there hadn’t been many updates to this methodology in the last thousand years.

Maybe he could figure out what Erick was doing, if he went far enough with this sort of thing.

And so, Quilatalap took tiny bits of pollen from one bean plant and spread that on the flowers of other plants, made them seed, and recorded the results of the progeny. ‘What colors of flowers’ ‘How many leaves till first flower’ ‘What do the combinations reveal about parental history’. These were the sorts of questions Quilatalap was replicating with his replication of this most famous of studies—

He paused.

He looked at his work.

He narrowed his eyes and said to himself, “These facts were first proven by a planar, weren’t they… I had forgotten that.” Quilatalap looked up in thought. “What year was it… 120? 95?”

Damn.

All that original work was long gone. Even if Quilatalap had had copies of those works, all those particular stashes were raided long, long before now.

Fuck.

… Oh well.

Back to the experiment.