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The offer of Benevolencing went out at around 8 pm.

Erick did not wait unprepared. First, he told his three Benevolence dragons to watch out for fights and to minimize as much damage as they could, and not to actually get involved. They all seemed to think that they could do that rather easily, now that they weren’t crazed when seeing other dragons anymore. Erick didn’t trust them a whole lot right now, though, but every little bit of help would help, if shit hit the fan. And he wanted to spend at least a little bit of time with his new dragons.

Around 8:30 pm, Erick made better decisions and conversed with all of his Overseers in the same room, under a [Hasted Shelter], in order to inform them all of what he had done, and who he was now. That conversation went rather well, Erick felt, especially since everyone had a lot of news and problems that needed solved, apparently. Raingorl’s schools were up and running, but they needed more teachers and more money. Volaro, after being slightly upset that Burhendurur knew about Erick’s dragon-ness before him, wanted to talk to Erick about many different dragon-specific laws which he felt needed to be either codified into law, or left to culture to decide, and he needed to talk to Erick about all of that right now; before everything really got going. In Erick’s opinion, everyone should be the same under the law, but Volaro thought that a more nuanced take was necessary. They spoke about that for a while, and everyone else got involved, too.

Mox had some plots of land ready to go for the new planned cities, thanks to her own office and Kiri’s force multiplier of Sunny, but she had yet to get a single person to come to those new lands, and she needed to coordinate with Ar’Cosmos in a way Ar’Cosmos was not coordinating. That conversation took up another hour.

Zolan was the first to suggest that they could all benefit from a mass meeting like this once a week, outside of time. Erick rapidly agreed that perhaps they should have been doing this for a while now, and then they got back on track, sorting out Ar’Cosmos’s new city and what they all expected of all the new dragons coming into Candlepoint. Burhendurur and Volaro could speak on behalf of Ar’Cosmos for most large operations, but actual nuanced takes and knowing what would actually happen once all the people started flowing in, would have to happen through actual representatives of Ar’Cosmos.

The meeting ended after five hours of subjective time, ending at 8:36.

At 8:49 the first requests came in from Ar’Cosmos.

And then came correspondences from all over the world. It started as a trickle, but Erick had knocked loose one of the supporting structures of civilization itself, and the mountain started to rumble. An avalanche of requests and demands came to him, some worded more strongly than others, most espousing how much good they could do if they were allowed to act openly instead of hiding themselves behind intermediaries as they usually did. Some spoke directly of how they had seen new dragons out in the grasslands of Candlepoint, and how they would be delighted to breathe forests into existence, too, in exchange for being freed from the Curse.

Erick had another [Hasted Shelter] meeting with all of his overseers at 9:32, which lasted a while.

He came out of that meeting with a much better plan than the one he had had before.

At 10:02, Erick entered the first of his meetings with the 6 dragons Fairy Moon had requested to be removed from Ar’Cosmos.

- - - -

Under a dark sky, but inside a [Fairy Stronghold] lit with light, Erick stood in a [Zone of Peace] with a large demi woman who was not demi at all. Her name was Emprazala, and she layered robes and dresses upon herself like she was both an empress from a different era, and a courtesan, with the top halves of her bountiful assets held up by all that fabric and gently jiggling as she breathed. She was not happy to be here, but she was still here, and her presence had happened without any fight at all.

So that was a plus, really.

It was only Erick and Emprazala, though; no one else was in attendance. As the avalanche of demands and requests flooded in, those dragons became investigation targets by all of House Benevolence. Burhendurur and Volaro knew of Emprazala and these first ten people, though, and so Erick had accepted a verbal recommendation on Emprazala and ‘her people’. All the rest needed real investigations, though, and so the House was working on those.

Erick’s time was a lot more valuable right now; he just needed a bit of time with all these people, alone, in order to figure them out a bit and make the final decisions.

Erick began with, “I will be putting up a [Hasted Shelter], so that we may have this discussion without worry of time.”

Emprazala tried not to show that she was impressed that Erick knew Time Magic, but she gave that away in her face. Her voice and eyes were completely calm, though, as she said, “I agree to this.”

Another wave of magic went out and enveloped both of them, and the world outside went stock-photo still. Erick relaxed a little, and so did Emprazala.

“We’ve got hours now, if we need it.” Erick said, “Please tell me what is going on inside Ar’Cosmos.”

Emprazala’s estimation of Erick went up at that moment, but she was still wary. “It is the standard nature of Ar’Cosmos to deny all who oppose them and to demand unending fealty from those who enter their halls. You are not much better from what I have heard, but apparently the fairy did not expect all us Free Dragons to come together and simply overpower her House rule. And so, the Houses compensated. And so, me and my companions are here, somewhere in your lands, kept separate so as not to fight, or communicate, and kept docile with the promise of a real cure from the Curse; a cure that the Houses have been using to keep division amongst us for forever. If it weren’t for your own solving of the size problems of Ar’Cosmos I would think you one of those always-divisors; one of our always-overlords. You stand with their power. You stand with their backing. You use their rules and their reputations to better yourself. And now your announcement has done exactly what that fairy wished it to do; it has ruined all our plans to take Ar’Cosmos for ourselves, and to finally be free of the eternal tyranny of the Houses.” She said, “All we have to do is finally submit ourselves to them.”

“I meant the battle lines being drawn in Ar’Cosmos. I didn’t need a restatement of the politics. Has there been actual fighting? Deaths?”

“… Some. No real catastrophes.”

“Okay then. Great! So how do you want to be out here, as a Benevolence Dragon? What are your goals?”

“… You’re not going to demand something of me?”

“I will, but those demands will be in accordance with your own goals, and so the disruption to your life will be large, but it will be controlled.” Erick said, “You are from somewhere in northern Nelboor, and so you have resources and lands over there. Do you want a Gate from here to there? Or would you like to move your people and such over here? We have lots of open land in the Crystal Forest just waiting to be turned livable.”

Emprazala narrowed her eyes a fraction at Erick.

And then she started talking. Slowly at first, testing Erick for his own responses and molding her words accordingly, or at least trying to. Erick was rather good at keeping his own emotions in check, and nothing Emprazala said was worrying. Over the course of half an hour, she explained that she had already taken everything she could with her to Ar’Cosmos, while leaving behind a city that could still fend for itself well enough, and certain plots started that would see them peacefully subsumed by one of the neighboring nation states within five years. She had had plans to ensure that subsuming would happen peacefully, through intermediaries between Ar’Cosmos and Veird, but now that Erick’s Benevolencing option was here, and if he wanted, she would bring those few thousand people left in her old city to Candlepoint.

“Because I have decided to stay here, in Candlepoint, if the offer is open,” Emprazala said, “The resources I took with me to Ar’Cosmos have already been seized and they are lost to me, but having direct access to the Gate Network would be more than enough to rebuild everything that I have lost.”

“Is that all you wish, then? Surely there is more; I can tell there is more that you are purposefully leaving unsaid.”

“I do not ask for special treatment, for I would rather have never met you or been subject to Wizards at all. But. If there is political room for me somewhere, then I would have it.”

“Build your own city eventually; get a place on the Governor’s Court. Those are the people who will eventually be creating the laws of this land, though I will retain ultimate authority for as long as I deem it necessary. For now, that political body is just a way for all those who control a city to formally contact and work with each other, and a rather direct connection to House Benevolence, for my Castellan is on that court.” Erick said, “But for now, if you wish to move to Candlepoint and rebuild yourself and your people there, Candlepoint has lots of space and is getting bigger. Either option requires that you adopt the laws of the land. I have more information in a packet, if you want it.”

“… I saw that packet already.” Emprazala said, “I choose to rebuild in Candlepoint, and make a city of my own at a later date… Since lakeside land rights are not an option for me?”

“Correct. No one is getting lakeside land rights as of right now, no matter what option they choose.”

Emprazala already knew that, but she had asked anyway to be sure. “I would need to go through the City Hall there in order to make further arrangements for Candlepoint property, yes?”

“Correct.”

“I do not desire a Gate network to my old city. I desire a Benevolencing, and the granting of citizen-status of Candlepoint. I will be allowed to purchase and sell my own goods and create my own business in Candlepoint, as long as it is done in accordance with your own laws of the land.”

Erick nodded. “All good with me.”

Emprazala steeled herself. “Then I am ready.”

There wasn’t much more to the meeting than the casting of a single spell.

Emprazala became a sleek white-violet dragon atop a pile of purple gore. For a long moment after her transition Emprazala stared at her previous body, trying to come to terms with how much unexpected hate she had for it. And then she told Erick to do what he wanted with it.

And so, Erick ended up with another dumpster-full of dragon parts, and a dragon of Benevolence who was very ready to begin regrowing all the political and monetary value that Fairy Moon had stripped from her.

Erick moved on to the next case.

- - - -

Over the course of an hour, Erick transformed 5 more dragons into Benevolence, and gained four more colors of scales and bones. That was it for the 6 people from Ar’Cosmos that Fairy Moon demanded gone, and which she had suggested would be good Benevolencing targets.

And now Erick faced the first of the four which Fairy Moon also wanted gone, but who were not good Benevolencing targets. She had suggested that Erick [Reincarnation] all four of them.

And after the [Hasted Shelter] went up around them, Erick needed to know why.

“The fairy has suggested I deny you a Benevolencing, Markander.” Erick asked, “Why would she do that?”

Markander was a human man of no particular looks. This was likely by design. Even as the truth of Erick’s words crashed into him, his reactions were oddly subdued, as if he was missing some part of him that enabled him to have proper reactions. But still, Erick saw as Markander switched from assured optimism to smoldering hate.

And then he said, “I’ll take a [Reincarnation].”

“… You don’t want to talk about it?”

“Not especially. Don’t like talking and you got your orders.”

“Not ‘orders’ actually. Suggestions. You’re the one who seems like he takes orders well, because it seems that you’ve already accepted that this was going to happen when you came here, because it plays into some sort of other scheme happening out there in whatever organization you got going on with Emprazala and the others.” Erick said, “She’s going to Candlepoint along with Geronial, but Baronoli and the others are going to Ar’Cosmos’s new city by the lake. So there’s some sort of political bloc being built out of you people, and while I don’t have the whole story, I have a lot of it. Just tell me what your plans are, Markander, and I might choose to allow you to remain a dragon.”

Markander frowned a little, saying, “It’s nothing sinister. It wouldn’t have been anything sinister in Ar’Cosmos, either. We were going to grow to a large enough size and power to request and then demand a seat at the House’s tables, expanding the seats of power of the Free Dragons in the Rotunda in accordance with our population. We outnumber the Houses a hundred to one, and so we would have used that clout to demand control of Ar’Cosmos. Everything would have remained the same, but we would have been in control instead of them.” He added, “The plan changed a bit when we got here. Now, we’re aiming for a seat at the Overseer’s table, or possibly control of the Governors Court.”

… ‘Not sinister’ had a very broad definition, apparently.

Or maybe all these people were truly good people? Erick didn’t know their whole story.

“I am very glad you didn’t try to lie to me, or to hide some of the truth. But why not?”

Markander said, “Because I never wanted to get involved with a Wizard and especially not a Dragon Wizard, and if you already have this much of the plot then you probably got it all, anyway. And I doubt that you would kill us for our temerity, unlike Bright Smile. If I can secure my own draconic power through telling the simple truth, I will.”

Erick breathed deep, feeling secure in his decision. “Acceptable. I appreciate your candor.” And then he looked at Markander. “But why was it suggested to me that you, specifically, not be allowed to remain a dragon?”

“… I’m an assassin.”

“Good. Glad you told the truth.” Erick gestured to his side.

Goldie, the Shade of Assassination appeared, resplendent in her black armor and with her giant black sword floating behind her back. She smiled wide, saying, “Hello, Markander! Long time, no clash!”

Markander stared at Goldie, his eyes going wide. And then he breathed out. He slumped a little. “Ahh. Hello, Goldie. Is this the end, then?”

Goldie said, “Not the end, but it is your official retirement notice! Act in accordance with your Class, and without my Lord’s express call to action, then you will be cut down. Also! You’re mine, from now until forever. You may look forward to working on the same side, if you wish! I know I will be.” And then she vanished back into the ether.

Markander did not have time to recover.

For Erick made him an offer, “Rat out everyone else, accept a [Blessing of Empathy], and vow to work under Goldie from now until I deem your term of service over, and I will Benevolence you. Otherwise, it’s a [Reincarnation], and you still have to rat out everyone else. No [Blessing of Empathy] that way. You’re not leaving this place any other way.”

With no hesitation, Markander said, “I’ll accept the second offer.”

And then Markander began talking, and talking, and talking.

When he was done, and Erick felt he had truly given up all the information he could, Erick gave him a new body and Status through [Reincarnation]. Erick hit all of Markander’s requests, and the man wasn’t stupid enough to request to be devoid of emotions this time. Markander got a rather normal human male body, with a penchant for gardening and raising animals, and bisexuality.

The other three operatives of Emprazala’s group received mostly the same treatment, but with variations all around. Only one other person was an assassin, though. The other two were simply generals of small armies who had already moved to Ar’Cosmos. Those generals had been planning on rebuilding here in Candlepoint, but Erick cut that problem off at the root. On the Ar’Cosmos side of things, they were currently in the process of dismantling those armies and incorporating them into their standing forces. All those other people Erick never saw and would never know about, would have been something like loyal agents waiting for a proper time to strike, if necessary. Now, with their leaders gone, that whole plan was gone, too.

Erick would not be inviting those soldiers into Ar’Cosmos’s city by the lake, either.

Erick informed Burhendurur of all this, charging him with keeping eyes on everyone.

- - - -

After those first ten dragons were sorted, Erick felt it had gone rather well, and for many different reasons. Not only had no one even tried to fight him, but Fairy Moon’s recommendations had been appropriate, and prudent. A point back in the fairy’s favor, Erick supposed.

Fairy Moon was still rather deep in the hole, though.

- - - -

Four days later Erick was finished with the Free Dragon ‘crisis’ of Ar’Cosmos.

He had made the right choice, again. Probably.

The sky of his Gate Space confirmed that many of the darker tangles in the future were simply gone. Erick’s choice of becoming a Benevolence dragon and helping others do the same had apparently been a big deal, solving many future problems before they could manifest as anything more than simple shadows in the sky. Even the orbiting planets beyond the hundred-year-wall of problems looked clearer; more simply there, and less full of dark spots.

The entire sky looked rather clear.

So why was Erick worrying?

Perhaps it was the pure transformation of the world he and his House had created.

Through his power, Erick had transformed 58 people into Benevolence Dragons and 119 dragons into normal people. Quite a lot fewer than his initial estimation of around 300-ish expected dragons, but then again there was no real time limit for his offer. Erick had put a stop to the transformations, for now, but he also left the door open for more people to become Benevolence dragons later. Next year, perhaps.

And so, the current crisis in Ar’Cosmos was ‘solved’.

Still felt like it was only getting started, actually.

Many of those new dragons were now raising up dwellings of their own, either out in the green spaces Kiri and Mox had created between the lakeside and the first of three curtain walls a hundred kilometers out, or beyond that wall, using their breath and their Shapings to make cities out of sand, and forests out of nothing.

Many of the new-mortals had decided not to stick around, though. They simply scattered to the wind after they got a few safe levels under their belts, thanks to the actions and help of the Office of Enforcement.

Quite a lot of things were happening all right now. Erick wanted to be a part of all those happenings, but he was just one person, and he had work, and his organization needed more people, which all the Overseer Offices were already planning on hiring as soon as they could.

The first of Ar’Cosmos’s refugees had arrived at the greater Candlepoint area on the second day of Erick’s transformation. At the beginning of the third day, the city of ‘Weald’ had gained a thousand houses and half as many apartment buildings. Erick had time enough to add a Gate at the Financial part of the Gate District to the northern coast of the Forest, as agreed, and by that evening, Weald had doubled again in size. Burhendurur went a little bit crazy organizing all the security responses, and so Erick had simplified everything by having Yggdrasil cast [Zone of Peace] across the entire Candlepoint area.

With the big guy’s size modifiers and some proper Shapings, that [Zone of Peace] covered 50 meters above and below the surface, and nearly all the way out to the 100 kilometer wall, about 125 kilometers away from Yggdrasil in every direction. Erick did not know that Yggdrasil could actually do that, but he could. Apparently.

In that one act, Erick had turned Burhendurur’s job easy. No more spellslinging fights anywhere. Sure, people still punched each other when the anger of their exile got the better of them, for these refugees from Ar’Cosmos were not all happy at all. Most of them were able to deal with their evictions with aplomb, and some even happily welcomed the change. But those that did not welcome this change vastly outnumbered those who did.

Erick went ahead and had the other two refugee cities set themselves up at the same time. The Dicers got a small place to the northeast of Candlepoint, and soon they broke ground on Gambler’s Rest. The various Cultist and other miscellaneous refugees from all over Nelboor and the Letri Ocean decided to not make their own city, though, and simply move into Candlepoint, which Erick found he was very happy to hear. The former Cultists whom Erick had Blessed with Empathy were going to fit in well with the current Cultists of Candlepoint, under Mephistopheles.

And it all…

Seemed to be going…

Quite well?

Hmm.

- - - -

Emprazala lounged among her conspirators upon the finest couches and drinking finest wine they could bring together, here on Veird.

It was so much better than their usual parties in Ar’Cosmos.

Because, for the very first time in her life, and while they were all in mortal form (though they had seen each other in dragon form, and sometimes most vigorously) they were together. Together, at last! Today was just yet another day of simple talking, catching up, but it was these times that Emprazala missed the most, and now, they could talk for real. About their real lives. The ones that they never got to share with each other. They had been working for so long with each other, but they always refrained from spilling actual secrets that could lead them to one another back on Veird.

And they didn’t have to do that anymore!

Emprazala was in her preferred body; a demi woman of large tits and copious cloth. She hadn’t always had this as her preferred form, but her time as a courtesan had left an indelible mark upon her life. So far she had shared most of that story, having spoken at length of her clan in the northern chilly lands of Nelboor, and how they survived against raid after raid from other clans, building power, and how she had been behind most of that power but always hiding from true sight. Almost no one in her clan actually knew who she was, for she was just the old woman down the street, or the courtesan talking into the ear of the current patriarch, or the nanny to the next generation.

Geronial appeared to be a brash young human man, but he was anything but that. He had spoken at length about working in the Underworld all his life, mostly in shipping. He figuratively owned Grand Speedy Barges, but the only time he had actually owned that business was when he founded it over 400 years ago. His pale green eyes shimmered with the color of his dragon form, as he sipped his wine, and listened to everyone else. He seemed to have a permanent little smile, now. Emprazala had one of her own. She was looking forward to working more directly with him, now that the Curse was gone from their lives.

Baronoli was perhaps the largest surprise of their little group. He was an orcol who lived in Songli, openly and as a full-time courtesan himself. His Blessing of Beauty was strong, and everything about his real life was surprising, for normally orcols did not go for that sort of open display. Emprazala’s estimation of the man went way up because of that; it was something that she had never guessed. But maybe she should have. There were many ways for one such as Baronoli to get as much information on the businesses of the Highlands as he always seemed to have, but she had always figured him for some sort of spy. A very dangerous line of work for one such as them, and especially in that part of the world, where Redrubyflare called her home, and killed all dragons who fought in her domain. After two days of talking, Baronoli finally divulged that yes, he had gotten in one or two fights there, but Redrubyflare and he had had an understanding. Based on Baronoli’s shining black eyes as he spoke of ‘understanding’ and joked of sex, it was easy to guess what that understanding had been.

Coshena was openly appalled to discover that Baronoli was such a harlot, and said as much every time Baronoli tried to tease her. This much was understandable to Emprazala, too, for Coshena was another beautiful orcol, but a woman, with sky-blue eyes the color of her new draconic body. Normally orcols were very physically reserved, and Coshena embodied that stereotype. And thus, Emprazala joined in on the teasing, saying that Coshena just wasn’t getting enough of the good times in life, and Coshena agreed, but she also vehemently disagreed with Baronoli spreading children around like he had to be. Baronoli took offense at that, saying he always used [Envelop Item].

Which led to even more crude, wonderful, joyful jokes, causing Emprazala to laugh with tears. Even Coshena had to laugh at a few of them.

Narakaol had been a recent addition to their little ‘draconic consortium’ about 150 years ago, but he, too, thoroughly enjoyed the stories of his good friends. The incani man wanted to get back to business, though, saying that he had quite a few contacts in the Wasteland Kingdoms, and that he wanted Emprazala and Baronoli to work with him to get Songli to allow Erick to create another Gate Network hub over there. His Wasteland interests wanted direct connections to Songli.

And so, the conversation turned back to facts and figures, though there were more ribald jokes here and there, and more secrets finally divulged, now that they could. The largest secrets came from their final member, who was perhaps the only one of them who wasn’t a permanent fixture of their group.

Orolononi was perhaps the oldest member of their group, who had originally organized the whole thing back in Ar’Cosmos, but she never participated as much as she could. Knowing that she fancied herself a goblin matriarch of the goblin city of Homeland explained all that extreme reluctance, though. She had always been big on the metal trade, but knowing now that she was only involved in the metal trade out of one city, and a very peculiar city at that, it was easy to see why Orolononi had kept herself apart. She, more than most, could not afford to speak too openly, or she would assuredly give away too much information.

It was a shame about Markander, though. And the other three, Emprazala supposed. Emprazala had never been too close with the others, for they were the warriors among their little cohort, and they never joined in any of the business dealings that the others enjoyed. But Markander had been an occasional lover when in Ar’Cosmos.

… They all had, Emprazala supposed, as she lounged on her couch and drank a nice 30-year-old wine. Really more like 300, though. It was from Phagar’s Vineyard; one of the only places in the world to openly use Time Magic…

Emprazala smiled brightly.

Because ‘the only places to openly use Time Magic had now grown by one’ and maybe—

Baronoli cut his joke short, saying, “Ohh! You already know this one! You should have said something, Empy.”

“I swear I was smiling for a different reason!” Emprazala made a shooing motion. “Continue with your joke. I am sure I will laugh at the appropriate parts.”

Light chuckles erupted all around.

Baronoli waved himself off, saying, “Then tell us your reason. I have talked too much, I feel.”

“I agree!” Coshena chimed in. “Yet another ribald tale. I say: no more.” She turned to Emprazala, asking, “What brings you extra delight this time?”

Emprazala smiled wider. “I was considering the Wizard’s extensive use of Time Magic, and how wonderful this wine is. Have any of you considered yourself a patron of the gods? In tune with Phagar? I would like more of this, and I would like less of the thousand gold a bottle price tag.” She added, “Alternatively, we could attempt to work with him and produce some wine for House Benevolence.”

Orolononi’s big green ears twitched. She pounced first. “I have considered asking for a Gate to Homeland.” She looked to Narakol, adding, “Or perhaps some sort of clearance to take part in the Songli Gate Network of Nelboor, when that finally gets set up.”

Narakaol nodded, saying, “Perhaps we should truly consider working directly for the man. He has given us everything we could have ever asked for, and if we showed competence with business and willingness to take over the Songli expansion… You don’t think he would go for that, Baronoli?”

Baronoli was shaking his head. He said, “Never. We could, perhaps, be a part of House Benevolence’s side of that structure, but Songli wants rather strict control over the Gates they allow in their lands.”

“Then let us plan for that possibility,” Emprazala said, “Because while I love you all dearly, we do have work to do. So let’s get to business a bit.”

There were a lot of nods around the group, and smaller words of approval. The party was over; for now, it was time to work.

Orolononi brought the group to order, saying, “I would first like us to locate Markander and our other martial leaders. They ran away too fast, fleeing from embarrassment, but while the old-me would have been fine with this arrangement, the new-me desires to still make use of them, in whatever forms Our King has put them in. And I miss them more than I thought I would. In a more useful sense, they still possess centuries of knowledge to better help us get a strong grasp on our future.”

Coshena and Baranoli spoke, saying they would take this duty, while everyone else gave smaller agreements that they, too, missed the rest of their group. Even the ones who had chosen to stay in Ar’Cosmos, or divide away, once that option became available. It was a true masterstroke on Fairy Moon’s part to secure all of Ar’Cosmos under the Houses again, but that complaint had been beaten to death, [Resurrection]ed, and then beaten to death again.

Emprazala moved her thoughts onward.

Orolononi eventually continued, “Us other four will begin coordinating with the various others who have fallen away, and our own peoples. Take note of those established powers in Candlepoint and do not upset them, for Our King is busy enough, and we do not want to threaten him with our eventual power. Not yet, anyway. We will stay completely within his systems, and when we gain power, he will have nothing untoward to say. And besides that, there are a few people who I am very interested in making some sorts of arrangements with. In particular, we have Zaraanka Checharin. She is the current financial powerhouse of Candlepoint, and everything is swayed in her direction for her to keep that power. Work with her, not against her. She has heavy ties to the Wasteland Kingdoms, through that princess from… from…”

Narakaol spoke up, “Princess Weilux, of the West Bank, daughter of King Rashi.”

Orolononi ceded the floor.

Narakaol continued, “Princess Weilux was originally the largest supplier of most goods to Candlepoint, though Portal is rapidly outstripping her in all ways. She is floundering, and we can work through my contacts to boost her back to power, and ensure that we take over when she passes, as all mortals do.” He held up a hand to forestall the obvious concern, and then he voiced that concern, “Which brings us to a thing we have never had to consider before now; Our usual ways of doing things might not work here, for the mortals could be made immortal, for as long as our Our King desires.”

Emprazala had been considering that situation for a while now, so while everyone else was still giving Narakol’s words the appropriate amount of consideration, Empralaza began, “If we cannot compete at the same level as the mortals, then we do not deserve to have the power Our King has given us. We merely have to be a bit more proactive than we usually are. Four day feasts might need to become 2 day feasts, and we should seek to hire competent forces, not merely forces that obey our every whim.”

Boisterous Baranoli laughed, saying, “How about a compromise of 3 day feasts?”

Narakaol added, “I have been hiring competent forces for as long as I have been alive. It is only all of you who seem to demand loyalty more than is good for you.”

“This brings up a good point.” Concerned, Coshena asked, “Does anyone else feel that they have been transformed in soul a little bit too much?”

Ah.

And now they were getting to the truly insidious topic.

Emprazala said, “Yes. I have. Only about a 15% realignment, though. Possibly as much as 25% on certain topics, such as the… Well I’ll just say it. Bright Smile. I absolutely hate her. But she doesn’t seem so bad anymore. I was terrified of Our King, and now… I am fine with looking up to him. Still don’t want to be near him too much, though.”

A lot of eyes wandered across the room, gauging the faces and expressions of others. There were a lot of similar feelings in those gazes, and they all recognized a reflection of themselves in each other, too.

Coshena decided to speak next. “This is the better outcome for us. And for Ar’Cosmos. I cannot tell why I feel that way, but… Well. No. I can tell exactly why I feel that way. I have always dabbled in Prognostication, and I suppose I can tell you this now.”

Orolononi gasped, and she was not the only one.

Geronial, who had been silent for a while because they hadn’t been talking about his preferred topic of magic-in-business too much, decided to speak on this subject. “That is dangerous, Coshena. You could have foreseen another dragon.”

“I know, I know.” Coshena said, “I practiced it safely. But now… I can openly practice it. Just ten hours ago I had a strange inkling to depart the party for a short while. And so I did. I had brushed off all of your questions afterward, your wonderings of why I had seemed to vanish for so long, but now… I sent a message to a certain contact. That contact worked through some of the lower levels of House Benevolence, and managed to get one of Our King’s meetings today looked at more closely. Someone had screwed up something far down the line in Ar’Cosmos’s handling of the meetings. I do believe that if I did not intervene, then there would have been a dragon fight right here in the borders of Candlepoint— Or. Well. Probably somewhere out there in the grasslands. Still! It would have been a hassle for all involved, and all involved probably wouldn’t have come out of that fight as dragons.” Coshena said, “They probably would have been reduced to mortality for a screw up that had nothing to do with them at all. I know not what became of them later, but…” She shrugged. “It is what it is.”

Geronial’s pale green eyes sparkled as he looked to everyone, saying, “I dabble in prognostication, too, and of the 621 Underworld cities that my Grand Speedy Barges services, 37 of them seem primed for something great.” His eyes sparked as he looked to everyone. “I have a remarkably good feeling about them.”

With her heart suddenly beating hard, Emprazala said, “I wish to invest.”

And she was not the only one.

- - - -

Burhendurur regarded the world from the depths of his bone pit, his senses extending far past the Death-laced dust, and past the monitoring systems his people had set up in the rooms beyond. He saw the world through a thousand subtly-flaming eyes inside lifeless skulls, he was worried. He had been worried about a lot, lately, and especially after all his people of Ar’Cosmos started showing up and building Weald on the southwestern edge of the lake. He did not imagine that the move would be as stressful for the people there as it had been.

But then Yggdrasil’s [Zone of Peace] went out, and everything calmed. People still hit each other, yes, but mostly there was just a lot of thick air getting thrown around. Erick had decided to keep that spell happening, for at least a while.

Burhendurur suggested that Yggdrasil should simply cast that spell every day from now until forever, but Erick had shot down that suggestion rather quickly, saying people shouldn’t rely on Yggdrasil to protect them in that way; they should protect themselves. Hence all the Denial Spheres now operating in every single major part of the Greater Candlepoint Area. There were three in Candlepoint, one in Gambler’s Rest, one in the Gate District, and 5 in Weald. All of those Spheres were working at full power, too.

He had expected all the new Benevolence Dragons to be a much, much larger problem than they were, though.

And that was where all his current worries lay.

Every single hour, it seemed like one of the new dragons was doing something odd, for yes, Burhendurur was keeping eyes on every single one of them. There was this one particular case that bothered him quite a lot. A dragon had been walking along in their human guise, using their might to help raise buildings for Weald, but then they stopped, calling a halt to the construction. The dragon then walked over to a man down the street who had been angrily staring at everything, like he wanted to burn it all down but he could not for a [Zone of Peace] was in effect. The man had been completely ignorant that a dragon was confronting him, for the dragon did not wear their horns out in the open (a problem which Erick still exemplified himself, but was also forgivable, since all of these new dragons were also still hiding themselves like they had to), so the angry man had had no problem telling the dragon off. There were a few smaller words.

And then the man began sobbing on how he had lost everything.

And then the dragon started talking to him about what sort of house he wanted.

Half an hour later, the man and his entire family was getting the house he wanted. Twenty minutes after that, the dragon went back to work on the houses they were building before the interruption.

Anyone without the Sight to see might have brushed off the ‘incident’ as some kooky dragon deciding to help an obviously-troubled man.

But the same sort of small incidents happened everywhere.

A dragon would drop what they were doing and go do something else nearby, and then go back to their original work. Usually it was just some small thing like with the angry man and his loss of house. Sometimes it was as simple as helping an old woman to cross the street so she didn’t break anything (followed by a letter sent to Erick later suggesting that the old woman be [Reincarnation]ed at his convenience, sometime in the next ten years; that incident stuck out in Burhendurur’s mind, too). Not all of the dragons were like this. One notable exception was when a dragon, standing on the second floor of a new construction and working on a window, turned and walked to the other wall, and then bumped a stack of stone. That stack of stone fell down to the alleyway below and broke the leg of a man sitting beside the wall, gambling with his friends.

A darker tangle of Benevolence, perhaps?

Whatever the case, all these tiny things added up into a disturbing new trend. Right now, Burhendurur was merely collecting information. He was making no waves, and disturbing none of Erick’s plans. But he was collecting information.

When he had a better grasp on what he and his Office of Enforcement were seeing, he would go to Erick with this information…

“And he will probably say that ‘yes, I see that. Glad it is working as intended’,” Burhendurur grumbled under his bone dust pile, “I can already tell—” He paused, and then he chuckled as he realized what he was saying. He finished his maybe-prescient thought, “I can already tell that this is going to end up in the courts, at least.”

- - - -

Teressa looked up from her book.

She was comfortable in bed, warm under the covers, and yet with a cool wind blowing across the space, and with plenty of pillows propping her up. This was perfect. A warm cup of tea sat gently steaming on the table beside her. And yet… She felt the need to do something. She put her bookmark in her book, then set it aside and cast her gaze out into the world, into the near past, and into the far future. Mana sensing was easier for her than ever before, and her range was now easily in kilometers, but only for certain things. Her steady range was at about 300 meters, though—

… Teressa sent to Poi, ‘There’s a guy in the garden. Looks like he’s playing a game of ‘steal from the wizard’, but I could be wrong.’

Poi woke up instantly, tracing across Teressa’s connection to the world, seeing what she was seeing.

The man was heavily veiled, but not veiled enough. He was just under 2 meters tall, human, and crouching by the peppers, taking some of them as fast as he could.

And then Poi’s voice came to Teressa, ‘You’re looking in the future again. But he is here now.’

Teressa blinked and refocused.

And then she saw the man appear on the edge of the garden, just inside the fence, inside the very obviously-placed [Alarm Ward]s. As he stepped into the garden itself he tripped the non-obvious [Alarm Ward]s, sending a tiny jingle throughout the house, warning that someone was in the garden space.

Poi’s voice suddenly hit Teressa, ‘Full [Benevolence Sight]. NOW.’

Teressa obeyed.

She gazed upon the man in the garden, piercing all of the veils around his form, seeking his future, breaking the world into lightning fractals.

In three hours he would be back with his friends and he would have successfully completed his mission of ‘steal from the wizard!’, to the cheers of all his drinking buddies.

And two days later he would be dead.

He was going to die to one of his drinking friends in a bar fight, to a knife hastily drawn, in a fight that should have been nothing but fists. The garden invader would bleed out and die, even after Healing Magics had been applied by the healer at the bar. That shouldn’t have happened. Most bars hired at least one person who could cast some healing magics, which they did, and the healer had tried to heal the guy, but they failed. One simple knife wound shouldn’t kill anyone who could veil and infiltrate with this guy’s precision and power.

Teressa looked deeper.

She looked at the ‘friend’ and reality broke into sparking fragments again.

The friend was the same age as the man. They had known each other for a long time, but something had changed. Every single future that Teressa saw was one of death, with the friend killing the garden invader in two days time. Or maybe three. Rarely did the invader get away from the friend. Always, it was the same argument. Over a woman?

Yes. Over a woman…

That didn’t sit right with Teressa.

She returned to the bar fight and focused...

The knife!

The knife in the man’s back broke into shattering fractals, but then focused into a thick line of lightning, leading off to a pawn shop. The invader had bought the knife for his friend as a birthday gift years ago...

No.

Teressa backed up.

She scanned the bar fight—

She should have caught it the first time. The healer at the bar. They made a show of healing the man, but the healer’s fractals were more obscured than any other’s. They were an impenetrable hole in the world. But the tiny needle made of blacknight was not obscured at all. That deadly poison was one of the only ones that could kill faster than [Cleanse] could save, and it was almost always fatal to humans.

Teressa pulled back.

The man was still plucking peppers, stuffing them into his bag. Two hours ago he had been playing a game of Wizards’ Towers with his friends, and then someone had joked about invading an actual Wizard’s Tower, and they were drunk enough to do it. They had all heard stories about how people stole from Erick’s garden all the time when he was living in Spur.

Surely stealing from his home on Yggdrasil couldn’t be that hard!

Let’s go do it!

And now this one guy was here, proving his manhood by the depths of his pure stupidity, and someone else had taken advantage of that. The same healer in the bar where he had boasted of his prowess. Teressa had no idea why the healer had killed the man, but—

Poi didn’t need any more proof than that.

Whatever was going on with the invader, it was over, now. The man stopped everything he was doing as Poi took control of the man and sat him down on the dirt. That sight sent a chill down Teressa’s back, for Poi wouldn’t do that to another person unless there was a real danger.

‘He’s a patsy of some sort.’ Poi sent, ‘And our schedules are getting too obvious. We’re only aware of this happening at all because you remained awake, reading your new book.’

Teressa shuddered in her bed as the calmness of the past few months came crashing down. They had had a lot of smaller scares, and Teressa felt that this might still be one of them, but there was still a cynical part of herself that saw dangers everywhere, sometimes. She was glad that she had stayed up to read her book, though. Poi was right; they were becoming too predictable. They needed another person in the house with them, or the garden needed to be removed, and they needed to move the house to a new location.

Teressa felt the last option was the best.

And then 3 hours later, Teressa was very relieved that she had been worried over nothing. (Though they should consider moving houses again.)

Teressa pieced most of it together herself from looking at long-range [Witness]es of the various interviews of every single person she had seen in her visions, from invader, to the friend with a knife, to the healer at the bar with the blacknight needle. Poi helped fill in some of the more intricate details.

The man was going to die due to a chain of interwoven events; not some grand plot pointed at Erick.

The invader had won his ‘round’ of ‘Wizard’s Tower’, stealing the prize from the top of the tower.

He would boast of this.

He would win the heart of the girl he and his friend were both chasing. So the friend would knife him in the back in a barfight, to teach him a lesson that was too stupid for Teressa to entertain as anything other than the raving of denied man. The friend was not aiming to kill, though.

The healer at the bar hated the boasting garden invader, though. He saw his chance to kill the man, and he took it. And there, right there, posing as a healer at a bar in Portal, was a serial killer.

Teressa didn’t even know that she was gazing all the way to Portal with her Sight, until all that happened and they, through working with the embassy of Portal, were able to find the serial killer in that city.

In the end, Erick had been informed of what had happened after the fact. After he stopped panicking that he was working too hard and that he should have been home (which Teressa and Poi kept trying to tell him that it was not his duty to always protect everyone, and certainly not them when they were already protected and at home) Erick finally accepted that ‘nothing’ had happened.

He did formally demand that Portal open a real investigation into the healer at the bar, and the bar itself, though. Which they did. That would take time to sort through, though.

And now it was a day later and the house was on a different branch and the garden had been abandoned and regrown inside a [Fairy Stronghold] greenhouse, attached to the main house.

Teressa lay in bed, reading again, and this time she got to the end of her book without interruption.

She did not feel the need to open the next one; she just closed her book, shut off the wardlights by twisting the wood irises closed, and lay down to sleep.

She slept well.

- - - -

Mox studied seven different city proposals on her desk. Each had merit. Each were from reputable people. But the problems were that each of these people were former dragons, newly Benevolence dragons, coming out of the cave, as it were, and now they wished to move all their holdings to be near Candlepoint, or to start their own city somewhere under King Flatt’s aegis.

Every single request was easy enough to fulfill, for they all came from powerful people, who, if they were not now openly dragons, then Mox would have happily suggested that Erick take all of them. These people were nothing but boons to all the rest of Candlepoint and House Benevolence. They would be fantastic additions to the Gate Network, too.

But they were dragons.

Erick would probably want to grant them Gates on Financial Road.

But they were dragons.

Especially Dead Tide. That land was both underwater, and a bit in the Underworld. Located at the bottom center of the Wikwacchi Ocean, south west of Continental Glaquin, Dead Tide was incredibly hard to reach and escape from, through all normal means. That was one of the many places where the oceans spilled down through the Surface and into the Underworld. All manner of riches were had in that place, mostly in the form of magical everything; animals, plants, etcetera. The very ground itself grew metal tendrils that reached up through the mana-thick waters and continued to grow, providing some of the purest magical gold and platinum and silver and everything else on Veird. Of course, you needed to harvest those wafting beds of gelatinous metal rather carefully, and then process it to get rid of the slimes that made the stuff; because that’s what was actually happening there. Filter-feeding slimes.

All of Dead Tide’s riches had to go down, first, for magic did not like going against the trillion-ton flow of ocean water and ephemeral mana that constantly also went down. One of those many, many spillways ended up near Stratagold, if Mox remembered correctly, and she did. Most exit routes for Dead Tide went to all the other Underworld waterways down there, into the dark.

A Gate to Dead Tide would be revolutionary for Candlepoint, and all the rest of the world.

And here was a dragon from Dead Tide, who wanted to bring his business and family to Candlepoint, through a Gate to his lands down there. He wanted to maintain that Gate, too. Of course the dragon wanted to control that Gate, which was simply not going to happen. But this was a good starting point for negotiations with Dead Tide for a Gate.

Dead Tide was not one nation, though. Dead Tide was 7 nations in a large coat, sometimes acting as a single nation. If Erick approved this request for this particular dragon, then that dragon would become the absolute ruler of Dead Tide.

… Which was a thing Erick could choose to do.

Those negotiations would likely include Stratagold, though, since a lot of those metals and goods went through Archmage’s Rest, near Stratagold and controlled by Stratagold. Of course, a lot of the people of Dead Tide tried their luck with avoiding Stratagold entirely, and chancing a run through the dark. Stratagold did not mind that, though…

But still. Stratagold would need to be included in these new talks.

Mox set that application to the side. All of these applications required clearance from Erick, but that one especially needed more attention than most.

And then she went onto the rest.

- - - -

Raingorl was busier than he had ever been.

Ar’Cosmos was coming to Candlepoint with 25,000 new people and he had nearly 200 applications for teaching positions and more than 300 that wanted to recreate the Renewal Tanks that Erick had made inside Ar’Cosmos, and which they had personally used. This was great! He wanted that magitech.

He needed more people.

He did not have enough money to pay any of them, nor did he have enough materials for them to teach with, or classrooms or hospitals for them to work their particular brands of magic, nor did he have the infrastructure to absorb nearly this many people as he needed to absorb.

Luckily, Erick was filthy rich, and Raingorl was both a great delegator and very willing to get his hands on those Renewal Tanks. Burhendurur got involved when Renewal Tanks came up, though, and then Raingorl got to meet Inferno Maw, the current leader of House Death.

Inferno Maw was a tall, thin man, with incani features and a grey cast to his skin and his long, upward-pointing horns. And he stared a bit at Raingorl as they sat down across from each other in one of Raingorl’s offices. Raingorl was used to this by now and paid no mind to Inferno Maw’s uncomfortable-for-him stares.

Raingorl was very used to the stares by now, and he kinda liked it. He had never been this way in his previous life, but… It was kinda nice to be pretty.

Raingorl broke the [Force Wall], asking, “I understand you wish to speak of some sort of meshing of Arcanaeum Consortium teaching, and Ar’Cosmos teaching.”

Inferno Maw came back to the moment, adroitly saying, “That is correct. I am the High Chancellor of Ar’Cosmos Arcanaeum, in charge of all that is taught at our own centers of learning. My goal of this conversation is to ensure that a few problematic areas in our teaching protocols are resolved to the satisfaction of us both. Erick will, of course, have final say, but I already have clearance from him to directly engage with you about how you fill your classrooms, and the knowledge you teach.” He took a small book out of his robes and set it on his own lap, as he asked, “Is there any place that you would like to begin, specifically? If not, then I would speak of which Elements are taught, first. Specifically, the non-mention of Fae and Carnage and Mystical in any Arcanaeum Consortium approved books.”

Raingorl wanted to scowl, for there were reasons those magics were not taught. This would be a long conversation, for there was no way that the teaching or non-teaching of specific Elements was among Inferno Maw’s strongest Bolts. Luckily, Raingorl had blocked off 5 hours for this conversation.

Raingorl started with a weak Bolt of his own, saying, “We will never teach the proper use of Fae or Mystical in a classroom here at Candlepoint. Those Elements are too rife for abuse. Other Elements that we will not teach are Elemental Time, Elemental Pirate— Any of the various Wizard Elements that have cropped up over the years, with the exception of Benevolence. And besides that, I oversee the mundane school; the University. I do have capabilities to teach Healing Magic, but all other magical learning is to be completed through Aisha.”

Aisha hadn’t done a damned thing in creating a ‘magic school’, yet. Raingorl was still pissed about that, and he was only getting more miffed as days went by.

“Aisha has not started her school of magic yet,” Inferno Maw said. “You have started yours, and even if you do call it a simple ‘university’, you still teach basic magics. [Grow] and The Vegetable. [Watershape] and [Stoneshape] and Habitation. You might not teach Force Magic 101, but you do teach Adventurer’s Readiness, which includes basic Healing Magic applications. And you do teach Healing Magic in your hospitals. It would be easy for you to inform people that they can stress almost any Healing spell in specific ways and gain another Healing spell. Stress [Rejuvenation] deeper into the body and you get [Regeneration], transforming a pitiable heal-over-time into allowing one to regrow severed body parts. You should already be teaching this, and yet, normal Arcanaeum thoughts are to not teach this at all, except through the apprentice programs.”

All true.

And so, since Aisha was not actually doing her magic school, as Erick had asked her to do, Raingorl decided that he wanted to speak openly about many things. Just to see what Inferno Maw said. With the two of them working over Erick together, Raingorl might be allowed to take over—

A knock came at the door.

Inferno Maw scowled a little.

Raingorl turned toward the door just in time to see the iridescent steel woman herself, Aisha, walk into the room. Raingorl hummed.

Well that was unexpected.

Aisha looked from Raingorl to Inferno Maw, then she pulled up a chair, and sat beside both of them, saying, “I understand we’re talking about magical teaching?”

Raingorl said, “I suppose we are.”

“Fantastic!” Aisha said to the both of them, “I have already spoken to Erick because I thought this would happen soon, and now that we’re here, we have leave to come to some sort of arrangement where you, Raingorl, officially become the ‘High Chancellor’ of Candlepoint Arcanaeum, where you teach all knowledge, both mundane and magical, but where I have leave to deny certain subjects be taught. If those subjects and students do need to be taught —if only to prevent them from killing themselves— those students will be directed through the normal apprentice system. My office of Magic will be doing all of that apprentice system.” She asked Raingorl, “If this is okay with you?”

Raingorl was stunned. But only for a moment. “Yes. This is acceptable.”

That was…

Exactly what he wanted!

Inferno Maw had been worried, but now he grinned a little in decided pleasure. “A wonderful adjustment. In light of this new happenstance, I have about a hundred new things to discuss, if you are both amenable?”

Aisha nodded. “I have 4 hours scheduled for this. I feel it might be enough.”

Raingorl said, “Let us proceed.”

Inferno Maw began, “Let us restart this conversation, with a discussion of Elements to be taught. Let us start with Fae, Mystical, and Carnage; specifically.”

Aisha frowned a little. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I’m fine with taking these sorts of students and teaching the advanced forms of this magic, but I suggest that Raingorl leaves them out of the normal curriculum.”

Inferno Maw perked up. “Really? This is counter to the normal direction of the Arcanaeum Consortium. Usually Kirginatharp needs to personally clear when those magics are allowed to be taught.”

“Our King has widely displayed Fae Magic to all, for every single person he granted new life to was held in a [Fairy Stronghold] for a day. And then there’s Weald; everyone there knows what Fae Magic is, and that the Bands of Intent on Fae Magic are getting relaxed in a few years.” Aisha said, “And Erick wants everyone to learn all the magic they want to learn. Mind you, I know this will come back to slap him some day, but he wants to do it, and he will be personally cleaning up any messes made by his new world order.”

Inferno Maw’s eyes went a little wide.

Raingorl easily said, “I’m still not going to teach Fae or Mystical, but Carnage is acceptable to add to the list of accepted Elements.”

Inferno Maw moved on, “I assume that Benevolence will be taught by Aisha?”

“Probably people I tap for the job, but yes.” Aisha looked to Raingorl. “Yes?”

Raingorl agreed.

They moved on.

It was a productive conversation.

And now… Raingorl was the Head Chancellor of Candlepoint University and Arcanaeum—

Well. They’d have to get official accreditation on that last one before Raingorl started calling the mishmash of buildings he had an ‘arcanaeum’. That accreditation would be a canyon and a half to cross, but Raingorl felt he had wings.

He could cross that canyon, and with speed.

- - - -

Zolan had four staff members looking over some resumes from some new hires, while he was conducting an interview with a man who might form the backbone of a ‘Greater Candlepoint Sewermaster’s Alliance’, as they had over in Songli. Soon, Zolan dismissed the man, but ticked his resume as a possible hire. That particular applicant was a new Benevolence dragon who was moving on with his life, but he was not the ‘Al’ person who Zolan had known that Erick had transformed first.

‘Al’ was still in Spur, pretending to be a normal person, according to Zolan’s various informants.

… Zolan would have preferred Al for this sewermaster position, truly. But it was not meant to happen.

- - - -

Volaro ordained the introduction of ten new judges in the wake of the Dragon Exodus, and the creation of Weald.

He still had reservations of some of the new people from Gambler’s Rest, but they were all qualified from their previous lives. Those people from Gambler’s Rest might even become some of the best judges in this land, for this land was to have only one set of laws. Because of that, it was every judge’s duty to ensure that that set of laws was upheld fairly across all peoples.

That last part was tripping up a lot of the new arrivals not from Gambler’s Rest; the nobles who expected better treatment than anyone else.

Normally, Volaro would have made arrangements to keep those people happy, for most of those people were from Ar’Cosmos, but he was too busy to ensure such preferential treatment, and it was rather nice to simply look at the law and decide that if a commoner was fined 10 gold for stealing from the market, then a former noble would be charged the same. Such an act won him no friends among the formerly powerful, but that was just it. They were formerly powerful.

Volaro liked not having to suck up to them.

… Gambler’s Rest’s people were perhaps too happy with that particular decree of ‘the same law for everyone’, so Volaro let them remain at their own lands, for now, though he did pluck two of those people and put them in the main court, in Candlepoint. He needed help getting through all these cases made by the mad rush of refugees, after all.

Volaro hired a bunch of new inspectors, too. The judges were just for when the inspectors decried a new building and the creator of that building was not willing to budge.

‘What do you mean the stone walls on our 3 story house need to be at least 30 centimeters thick! I never did it that way back in the islands!’

Well, sir, you got exceedingly lucky back on the islands— Oh wait! Aren’t you a refugee from there, and your entire city was destroyed by crashing waves? Oh? Yes? I’m right about that, eh? I wonder why that happened to you? I wonder why your house and entire city fell to some simple waves.

Volaro didn’t say all that himself, to anyone. But one of the new judges had said that. Volaro liked that judge rather much because of that, though he would need to rein in that fiery young lady’s tendencies if she overstepped clear lawful lines.

But there had already been a few buildings that fell apart on their own, nearly killing the inhabitants, so some righteous anger in the courtroom was warranted.

- - - -

Quilatalap had seen quite a few [Reincarnation]s and [Blessing of Draconic Benevolence]s over the last few days, but only when he specifically asked Erick if he could watch. That man may have been a dragon and a Wizard, but he acted like a common civil servant on a deadly deadline, every single day; always something happening, and never enough time to relax. There was something admirable about that, but Quilatalap preferred a quieter existence. As for his own magical efforts in his quiet existence, he still had his bean-growing experiment going on, maintained by a little automatic skeleton magic, but he only checked on that when he wasn’t putting together all the rest of his life.

Erick had given him three buildings for his own use.

The first was his new home on Yggdrasil, which was quite nice. Well protected. Quilatalap couldn’t fault any of Erick’s spellwork, or any of his runic webs, and Quilatalap even had some really nice views of the Gate District from his porch. The nature of the house did disclose that Erick had probably seen Quilatalap’s similar home in Ar’Kendrithyst, back during Last Shadow’s Feast, or at least the one he allowed people to find. This was a little awkward since Quilatalap did not actually like that house.

When Quilatalap got a moment to ask Erick about where he got the design for the house, Erick said he had copied his own house, and then he asked if Quilatalap would have rather a cottage like the one he let Erick stay in with him, during Last Shadow’s Feast. Quilatalap would have actually preferred that, and so, Erick transformed the house the next chance he got. He even installed a little runic [Renew] station so Quilatalap could keep the house strong on his own, which was rather thoughtful; Erick had just forgotten to do that the first time.

But really, Quilatalap felt that Erick was probably just getting more comfortable with him.

The second building was a workshop like Erick’s own, inside another [Fairy Stronghold], but outside of any other district. It was a space for him to practice whatever he wanted. Quilatalap didn’t use that one much, but he appreciated the thought.

Mostly, Quilatalap was in the library. The public portion of the library was in the designated-Shade tower, occupying about four empty floors at the top. That public space was completely empty, too, but that was because Quilatalap was expected to fill it with whatever he felt like. Erick suggested ‘good books’, and then rattled off most of the books in his own library. They were all magic books.

And so, since Quilatalap thought Erick was heavily lacking in a great lot of basic magic books, that became Quilatalap’s first goal in setting up that space. Just the basic magic books, though. All the more devious ones would go into the private part of the library, which was maintained in a smaller [Fairy Stronghold] that was, once again, on Yggdrasil’s branches.

No one was allowed in Quilatalap’s library, by his own personal decree, by Erick’s decree, and by great big signs on the doors, but by the gods above, did people try. Mostly they tried to ask Quilatalap questions. Thankfully, he only had to repeat his Erick-given words that he was not teaching anyone anything, for any reason whatsoever, until they got clearance from all Overseers, and Erick himself. Only then, would Quilatalap even consider teaching the person.

And maybe not even then.

It was a rather moot point, anyway. Good luck with getting Aisha of Archmage’s Rest to approve of anyone. Ha!

Those people who kept attempting to talk to him got a [Nightmare Curse]. It would wear off in a few days, but those people were never able to look Quilatalap in the eyes ever again and they usually ran away screaming, so that was fine.

Goldie was a resident of the tower. Quilatalap did not try to shoo her away at all.

Goldie even offered to go on book-finding missions for him since she wasn’t doing much of anything else these days, except for the occasional guarding of Erick. Quilatalap was pretty sure she was lying (and vastly underselling) how much she did around here, but he wasn’t going to pry. He did ask her to stick around whenever she felt like, though, because when she was around and visible, no one else was around. Quilatalap was not a hermit, but he also didn’t want people bothering him all the time, asking questions that he wasn’t allowed (nor did he want) to answer.

He was happy to talk to Erick, though.

He was happy to hear that Zenipeq had retaken Frostflower. She had been welcomed back in half-open arms, and then someone from Death Throne had tried to kill her through a good ten intermediaries, but she dealt with that rather handily.

On the sixth day after Erick started Benevolencing dragons, Erick asked if Quilatalap wanted to meet for some magic talk the next day. Quilatalap happily agreed. Unexpectedly, though, was the location of the meeting. Quilatalap never let anyone in his real workshops…

But Erick was different, he supposed.

Quilatalap strode down the center of a large warehouse space, high atop Yggdrasil’s boughs. He was in Erick’s real workshop. His surprise could not be hidden. Large stone boxes filled with dragon parts lined one side of the building. Raw metal goods sat on the other side; thousands upon thousands of tons of iron and steel and rarer metals, too. A whole block of platinum. A stack of gold bricks. Ingots upon ingots of silver. Almost all of those rarer metals were prismatically imbued, too. Quilatalap was having a hard time deciding which trinkets were more expensive than the rest. He was partial to the bones and scales, though, for obvious reasons.

They could be turned into quite a lot of fun things.

As though he was reading Quilatalap’s mind, though Quilatalap knew he wasn’t, Erick said, “You want some of those bones and scales and such? I have no idea what to do with them all, but I saw you eyeing them during those Benevolences. Or we could talk about what they’re actually good for, and we can make something with them together? Any sort of magical talking or doing is great, though; I just need a break. The kingdom is great! But I still want to do magic for as long as I— Well. I will probably have to have this conversation under a [Hasted Shelter] if we want to spend any actual time here sharing secrets.”

Quilatalap continued to walk down the center of the warehouse of fantasies, his mind abuzz with ideas. He turned a bit to Erick, looking down at a man who was only as small as he was because he wanted to be; like most dragons. And Wizards. And kings, too, sometimes.

Quilatalap asked, “Got anything you want to know, specifically? Because I sure got a list of my own.”

Erick smiled. “I do! [True Resurrection]. Why is yours real and Messalina’s is not?”

Quilatalap nodded, then breathed in and out to give himself some time to think. And then he decided to just speak openly. “This is a complicated problem, that is not really that complicated at all. Do you know what happens to people after they die? Give me the long version that you know.”

“Sure.” Erick said, “Upon true death, when the heart stops beating and the brain stops firing, or when the core or rad is fully broken and unable to be remade, the soul sometimes leaves the body/core in a transposing sort of manner, not unlike a [Teleport], but not completely the same, either. In this, the most normal of ways for people to die, the soul has moved on to wherever the person had planned to and prepared for during their life.

“When a devotee of Atunir dies, their soul moves to the Golden Fields and Evergreen Orchards or similarly named place. There, they live out their days in bliss and harmony with Atunir, occasionally coming back to the world to empower the divine magics of Atunir; to spread Field and Fertility to her other parishioners.

“But most souls are not devoted to certain gods at all. Like animal souls and plant souls and monster souls. When these things die, they evaporate into their local manasphere as something akin to mana, but not really that at all. If one looks really hard with a mana sense, they can see souls in the very air itself, but usually only around great places of death, or where the mana swirls most solidly. In these locations, soul-stuff —not the original soul at all— can come back together and form naturally-rising undead, or elementals.

“Outside of specific gods, though, at the time of death of most thinking things —for those who have chosen not to move in any particular way— Phagar appears and offers choices, mainly two. A choice for an end to suffering; The End. A choice to attempt to move into the realm of a specific god; a path fraught with danger, but also one last chance at existence. There are other choices, like forgoing Phagar altogether and trying to piece oneself back out of the manasphere, but as far as I know the church tries to discourage this, though it is one of the ways to come back from the dead. Thinking undead sometimes come back to ‘life’ in this way, but they’re never who they were in life.” Erick thought for a second, then said, “I think that is… Most of it. Yeah.”

Quilatalap nodded. “That’s all basically correct.” He looked around, then said, “Let’s have a [Hasted Shelter] and a Privacy.”

In five short seconds Erick weaved magic like a true master, and Quilatalap sat across from a nice little table filled with tiny treats; cookies, a part of a cake, Erick’s coffee invention, and also his ‘soda water’ invention. Quilatalap smiled at the quick spread and made himself a cup of coffee, then took a slice of cake.

It was wonderful.

Halfway through his confection Quilatalap set down the cake, smiling a little bit, and said, “This is really good. You’ve got some good Cooks in the House, Erick.”

Erick chuckled a little, saying, “Yeah. I do. I haven’t had much opportunity to actually eat at Slipstream’s Saucery, but I order takeout all the time. Atalle says I have an open invitation whenever I want to show up and get a proper dinner, though.”

“If you’re looking for a reason to relax, I’d be up for a nice dinner. I haven’t eaten at a place like that in a long time.”

Erick’s eyes went wide. “Uh… Yes.”

Quilatalap smiled a little bit. “Good! I’ll hold you to it!

“Now about [True Resurrection] and [Resurrection] and all of that: Now you got everything basically correct about the degradation of a soul upon death. There are a few specific edge cases that need to be discussed, though. Like with angels and demons.

“When a person dies and they’re headed that way, they are transposed to Hell or Celes, and then, depending on if they were contracted with an archdemon, in the case of the incani, or pledged to the Celestial Host, for anyone choosing to be angelic, they get turned into a low level demon or angel. In these cases they keep their minds… Mostly. It’s sort of like your Benevolencing, actually. When a soul manifests up there their soul shifts in those directions; either Vile or Exalted.

“They’re still actually souls, though. When they’re up there on those moons, they are nothing but soulstuff in a world very similar to how the Old Cosmology used to be; malleable.

“I mention the angels and demons because they’re the easiest ones to bring back to ‘life’. The process for doing so is the same for both demons and angels, so I’ll focus on demons and you can extrapolate for the angels. When you cast a Vile ritual, calling out to Hell, you are attuning a part of space for any demon at all to step through. When they do step through that Rift-like pseudo-space, they transform the Elemental Vile into their own Demonic flavor, creating a body for themselves in the process. Their body will take from the ritual what it needs to make itself, so if you use a small ritual, you should only expect small demons. If you used a very large ritual, you could get a larger demon, or a bunch of smaller ones.

“This is the easiest way to summon a demon, though you never know what demon you’re going to get.

“If you attempt to summon a specific Demon, using an Elemental Demonic ritual, they could step through the space, or not. They are not compelled. You can do a compelling ritual, but you shouldn’t… Though you can form contracts with demons and they agree to be your slave for the duration of the ritual. This carries all the inherent risks of making a slave, though, so you’ll get the Slave Quest issued against you— Ehhh. We don’t need to go into that. Anyway. Elemental Demonic rituals can fail. You might have just wasted your mana, your time, and depending on the nature of the ritual, a whole lot of money.

“But the summoning of demons and angels is rather easy, because the souls have already done about 75% of the work for you.

“And now we get into the [Resurrection] ‘debate’. There are many facts to consider here, but I’ll give an overview, and you can tell me what you think.”

“Souls that actually move on to their true afterlife with a god cannot be brought back.

“Souls that become demons or angels or sapient undead can be brought back to life, in those forms. Not in their original forms.

“[Resurrection] is capable of bringing a dead thing back to a life, no matter where the original person went.

“[True Resurrection] does not work on those who have moved onto their true afterlife. It does not work on those who have transformed into angels or demons or sapient undead. It only works if the dead person has only been dead for a short while… Which can vary depending on many different factors. [Soul Stasis] magic is important for a [True Resurrection] to work properly. Otherwise you could just end up with a [Resurrection].” Quilatalap finished with, “And yes, it could be that you cast [True Resurrection], but the effect of a spell like that varies depending on many factors well outside of the casting of the spell itself.”

Quilatalap went back to eating his cake while he watched Erick digest all of that. The man was really quite cute when he was deep in th—

Quilatalap stopped.

His previous words came to him. ‘If you’re looking for a reason to relax, I’d be up for a nice dinner.’

He had asked Erick out on a date, hadn’t he?

And then Erick had said yes.

Rather quickly, too.

Quilatalap considered this. This was… this was fine. Yes. This was fine. Great, even! Or maybe it wouldn’t be, and that would be fine, too. Erick didn’t seem like the sore-lover sort of type. He had had that fling with that guy in the grasslands, right? And then moved on? Quilatalap had done that, too, here and there sometimes. So yeah. This was fine.

Quilatalap went back to eating his cake. He had moved on to the cookies before Erick was ready to speak again.

Erick said, “So reconstructing a soul, forcibly, through [Resurrection] and some sort of manasphere imprint of the body, does not actually bring back the original person, unless that original soul is already fully there. So [Resurrection] gathers soul stuff from the manasphere to make up the difference?

“My instinct is to say that you can use Time Magic to properly reconstruct any soul that has moved on, but then you would need to be in the location of that soul’s death, to reverse it back to a proper point in time when the soul was existent, and then freeze it in time, and bring that past death to your current time...

“Or, you could do some more extensive Time and Spatial magic to ‘gather that soul’ into whatever location you chose. You’d need clearance from Phagar to do that sort of magic, though.

“So if you didn’t have clearance from Phagar, then he would stop you from doing that Time Magic, and you would need to use extensive soul-preservation magic and it would need to be cast, preferably, before the person died… Oh. I know the difference.” Erick looked up to Quilatalap. “You have clearance from Phagar. Messalina does not.”

How does he do that!

“Once again, you astound me, Erick, and in so many ways!” Quilatalap smiled wide, laughing a bit. “Yes. That is the exact difference. I have clearance from Phagar for Time Magic, and Messalina does not.”

“But she has the [True Resurrection] spell?” Erick asked, flabbergasted. “I have not seen it myself but everyone else says she does?”

Quilatalap nodded. “Now this is a bit more tricky. Here.” He handed off a pair of blue boxes. They both read almost exactly the same. “First one is mine. Second is hers. Only difference is mana costs.”

--

True Resurrection, instant, known target, 10,000 mana

Bring a known target back to life.

--

--

True Resurrection, instant, known target, 25,000 mana

Bring a known target back to life.

--

“They’re nothing special as far as boxes go,” Quilatalap said, as Erick read, blinked a bit, and then dismissed the boxes. “Messalina got her [True Resurrection] through extensive Spatial Magic and Sight magic and Soul Magic beyond the norm. I got mine through normal Soul Magics and Time Magic. Messalina’s version does work. Most of the time. Don’t go thinking it doesn’t. She simply went through a lot more fields of magic to get there. But, by going through all those extra fields, things get muddy.

“I’ll give you an example:

“I built a solid road of steel across a canyon between life and death. Direct. Simple. Disembodied souls are very, very dumb, almost all the time, but I built lights and rails and the road is a kilometer wide. There’s even a gradient, so the soul will sometimes simply ‘slide into life’. If the soul is on the other side, it will come through. It is very hard for a disembodied, free soul to fail to cross that road.

“Messalina had no steel, or lights, or even designs for railings, but she had a lot of wood. She did what she could. She probably could have gotten a better version of her magic if she was at all personable with Phagar, but Messalina’s Truth is one of No End, and… Ah. Whoops. Listen to me. Giving away the Truths of others. If you could ignore that it would be nice.” Quilatalap waved himself away, saying, “I’m not giving Messalina nearly enough credit, but you get what I’m saying, right?”

Erick sat there for a moment. “… How do you know if the soul you put in the body is the one that is supposed to be there?” He rapidly added, “I mean. How does someone else check to see that the proper soul is in the proper body? Oceanside was doing a lot of that with my [Reincarnation], and I think I am starting to see the shape of what some of their tests could have been.”

Quilatalap had to laugh again. “Ah! Erick! I’m not sure which is more impressive. That you plowed ahead into the deepest possible part of the mana ocean without really understanding what was down there, and you survived, or the fact that you’re absolutely thriving all the way down here.”

Erick blushed a little bit. “I have a different skill set than most people… Probably.”

“You very much do, for Wizardry can explain a lot but not nearly this much.” Quilatalap grinned, saying, “I’ll go over all of it, for this is a very complicated thing that cannot be broken down into a spell formula of any sort. It’s more like a grand checklist, and some peoples’ checklists are larger than others’, because they can see and test more. Feel free to interrupt whenever.

“Let’s start at the easy level; the Status and the name therein. Not foolproof. Your own [Reincarnation] sometimes changes the name of the person. Most people failing to cast a proper [Resurrection] will have changed the name of the resurrected.

“The whole rest of the Status could and should be roughly the same, too. Same spells in their person. Same Stats. Etcetera. Not foolproof at all, because you can change a lot of this with your own magic.

“The presence or absence of godly magic is a big indication if the person is the same, or not. Your [Reincarnation] purposefully gets rid of this, though, so the people of Oceanside had to look deeper.

“The next easiest level is dependent on if you have a Mind Mage present who is willing to do a [Deep Scan] or other similar spell on the person. You can do it yourself if you feel confident, but an accredited and competent Mind Mage can usually do this a whole lot better than you. What they look for is memories pasted on top of other memories. Most false [Resurrection]s fail this step. 85% of them by my estimations, but I could be wildly off there; I don’t keep up on most world news.

“I’ve learned enough Mind Magic to be able to test [Resurrection]s, to see if they’re real or not. That 85% number is mostly from my own investigations.

“Your [Reincarnation] passes all these tests 100%. The people that go into that spell are the exact same people who come out… Mentally, anyway. They often get pointed in a new mental direction by the time your spell finishes, but that’s how it is with extensive soul and body magic.

“And then you have the esoteric methods.

“Specialized [Witness]es to peer into a soul’s past, to see if that soul was created wholly from the mana, or from the person that used to be there, or if the soul therein is the exact same as it used to be, but in a living body… Or undead body. You know.

“Asking Rozeta for a [Deep Scan] to check. She’ll do it if everyone agrees and you pay the grand rad cost. That’s expensive, though, so most people don’t do that. Also, her judgments run a bit harsh, and final. She’ll give you a ‘yes’ if the soul is 100% the original. You’ll get a ‘no’ even if you got 95% correct. Now that is where this whole ‘debate’ truly started, because even I can only hit 100% when the person has died in the last hour, and they’re still physically near where they died.

“I do not agree with Rozeta’s criteria for ‘real’ or ‘fake’. No rational person does, because the soul is always in flux. The soul you are at age 10 is not the soul you are at age 20. You’re already 100% replaced by then! This shifting soul phenomenon is also responsible for why much of Quintlan is seen as ‘evil undead’. But that’s a different conversation.

“And then you got the other gods. If the soul prayed to any particular god, you can ask that god to check if they got the soul in their domain, or not. If they do, then the person on the ground is an impostor.” Quilatalap said, “There’s more, but I could talk about that all night long. How would you rather like to try some real necromancy yourself? You might be good at it!”

Quilatalap could tell Erick was thinking about ten thousand things all at once, and it was quite adorable, because he knew that Erick would come out of those thoughts with a bunch of correct ideas. Or at least mostly correct. He truly was a delight to teach.

And then Erick said, “I do want to learn necromancy, but maybe in a year or three. I actually have another, different question. Do you have a way to test the soul strength of a person? I’d like to know how susceptible I am to the truly dangerous magics out there.”

“Ah! I have a spell for this exact thing. It won’t do any lasting damage, but if you can feel it at all then your defenses are too weak. Here.”

Quilatalap threw a [Soul Testing Bolt] at Erick, right to the chest.

And it splatted like so much nothing.

Erick looked down at his chest. “Huh.” And then he looked back up at Quilatalap. “Okay. Yup. Nothing.”

“Good!” Quilatalap said, “If your defense were weak at all you would have taken about 10,000 False damage, or something like that. That’s the normal range for dragons and other such types. You wanna learn that spell, too?”

Quilatalap felt his own soul resonate.

He wanted to teach, too!

This was fun.

Erick grinned, his eyes glancing to Quilatalap’s soul, and then back to his face. “I think I do— Ah. Yeah. I do.” Erick blinked a bit, adding, “But. Uh. You want to know more about [Reincarnation]? I would prefer you learn that before I go around learning more soul magic.”

“I do! Absolutely.” Quilatalap asked, “I do have some starting places, if you’d be okay with answering those questions?”

“Sure? Where do you want to start?”

“Your [Baleful Polymorph] is amazing! You’re obviously using Benevolence to guide all the changes in that spell, but you have a deep understanding of living biological markers that rivals almost everyone—” Quilatalap corrected himself, “—that does rival everyone I have ever met. I’ve met a few odd mages here and there who might know what you know, but whatever they did know was lost to time, and death.”

Erick got a sudden far-off look in his face. His white eyes sparkled a bit, and then he came back.

… Quilatalap was briefly concerned, as Erick stared into Quilatalap’s entire being—

Briefly, Quilatalap was under the Focus of Time Itself.

It was not a truly uncomfortable situation, for Quilatalap knew what he was about, and he had experienced this sort of thing before, during other Grand Prognostication Events. Usually a person needed a whole entire ritual to do a GPE, but Erick was different. Benevolence was all about prognosticating terrible events, too, so…

Hmm.

Would it be a bad idea for Erick to teach him something?

Quilatalap was suddenly not so sure of himself—

“Okay. I’ll teach you.” Erick said, “This is all going to get out in 50 years, or something, as soon as proper microscopes and other such things are invented. I would ask you not to actually use microscopes or whatnot, when you go investigating what I am about to tell you, because I’m pretty sure if people see those sitting around you, and then you go ahead and start whipping out truly world-changing magics then—”

“Hold on,” Quilatalap said, “I have suddenly decided I don’t want to know. I’m not taking that responsibility.”

Erick looked at him, saying, “I think you should know, though. Just… don’t go spreading it around?”

“… I’ll think about that. I have different questions anyway. The Blood Magic stuff was only the most pressing, largest puzzle piece I was missing. I can figure it out on my own, and if I can’t, 50 years is nothing.” Quilatalap said, “I’d also like to know how your [Reincarnation] got put together, though.”

“Ah. That’s easier. So it starts with [Renew]…”

- - - -

In a space that was not truly real, Nameless One asked the question that had brought them all together, time and time again, “How do you fight an enemy that knows you are coming, from every direction you approach?”

Nameless Four said, “I am rather more convinced that you can’t. We tried three smaller ways to lure out the Unnamed’s capabilities, and all three attempts were [Scan]ed out long before they got anywhere near him.”

Nameless Seven said, “I am retracting my support.”

Seven vanished from the space as though they were never there.

Seven was never the most stalwart of them, anyway. Their loss was great, but the weak-willed might as well be culled now.

Nameless Nine said, “There is only one way to ‘win’ against him, and that is to wait for him to fall.”

“Won’t happen,” said Nameless Two. “Except… We could overwork him to death? Literally pile every problem on top of him until he is crushed by the weight of it all.”

A small chuckle filtered through the room.

Nameless Two did not chuckle. They said, “I’m not exactly joking. He wants to be a king of the world, so make him one. It’s not like any of us would lose personal power, though we would have to make reforms here and there.”

“… We’ll call that Plan Finale.” Nameless One said, “But on a more serious note—”

“Hold on a fucking second,” said Nameless Four. “Nameless Two is talking about treason to the group— Oh shi—”

Nameless Four vanished from the group.

Nameless Nine vanished soon after.

Nameless One, Two, Three, Five, Six, and Eight, remained.

And that was it.

… No one spoke.

And then Nameless One said to Nameless Two, “Fucking hell, Office of the Overseer minion, whoever the fuck you are; you ruined this for us.”

Overseer Minion shot back, “Screw you. As soon as Seven left like that this group was dead in the abyss, Bluite Geode minion. Not sure who you are either but I narrowed it down pretty far!”

Nameless one —Bluite Geode— sputtered, “I’m not from Bluite—”

“Oh yes you are,” said Nameless Five, “I’m from Songli and I’ve been tracking everyone here for a while now, trying to uncover all of you, and all the ones who left are definitely part of the actual problem. So this group doesn’t matter anymore.” They pointed, and named people, “Three is from Treehome. Six is from Dead Tide. Eight is from Eidolon. You, Eight, might actually be one of the Rockys, of Archmage Tenebrae’s creation.”

Eight laughed. “Yeah, I am. Obsidia, actually, and fucking hell! Is this group half-infiltrated— Over half-infiltrated already? Well shit!”

Six, from Dead Tide, said, “Let’s all meet at Candlepoint and put together our notes? I would like to find out who left us and track them down before they can regroup into another possible problem.”

Overseer Minion said, “Let’s just meet in the House itself. I’ll have a room prepared. Ask the woman at the front desk for the Office of the Nameless Minion.”

Nameless Three, Treehome, said, “How about we talk here?”

Obsidia said, “I would rather us not talk in a compromised space. I will agree to meet at House Benevolence. See you soon.”

Obsida left. Bluite followed, and then the whole space emptied.

And then Nameless Ten, the invisible one, looked upon the empty space, and departed. He didn’t think they were that well infiltrated. Maybe two or three operatives. But six! Crazy. Well, whatever. Nameless Ten’s own plans were still in motion—

Well.

‘Plans’.

More like ‘opportunistic strikes’ that could happen if—

Bright white eyes opened up in the Dark.

Nameless Ten fled, chased away by horrible, horrible laughter.