Chapter 65, 1/2

Chapter 65, 1/2

The sun hung low on the sky, but still ascending. It was a nice, breezy morning, as Erick walked across the flat orange land of the Human District, toward the Mage Trio’s house. He passed his garden, smelling the air, loving the smell of lemons and greenery on the breeze and the scent of a freshly baked lemon cake in the stone basket in his hands.

He approached the front door, and it opened before he could knock. An icy fox appeared on the other side, like a child answering the door for their parent. Ophiel fluttered on Erick’s shoulder; eyes opening up to take in the sight of the other [Familiar]. The ice fox howled in tiny mews, calling backward into the house.

Eduard appeared in a blip of blue, next to his fox, looking at Erick with surprise on his face. “Uh! Hello?” He looked down to the basket in Erick’s hands. “Uh?”

Erick smiled, pushing the basket out to Eduard, saying, “As thanks for help with the Hydra, and to say that if you want anything out of the garden, that you can go ahead and take anything you want. Or Ramizi, can, anyway. He’s the only one of you that’s into plants, unless I’m mistaken.”

“You are not mistaken.” Eduard took the basket and lifted up the lid to look inside.

“It’s a lemon cake,” Erick said.

Eduard nodded, then shut the basket’s lid, saying, “You really should consider hunting Messalina with us. She is a menace.”

Erick smiled softly, saying, “I have no interest in denying someone her vengeance against those who killed her family.” He added, “But if you spot any monsters on Mog’s list, or any more aberrations like the Toxic Hydra: I’m only a [Telepathy] away.”

Eduard continued, undeterred, “As of right now, your potential Particle [Scan] spell is only one avenue for Messalina to use to find the Cinnabar Hand, but finding people in the Crystal Forest who don’t want to be found is exceedingly difficult. There’s no doubt in my mind that the Hand are laying low. They will not be found; they know who is after them.” Eduard said, “Eventually, Messalina will grow tired of her fruitless pursuit. She will start to make real monsters.” He stressed, “These monsters will attack every single person they find, and eventually Messalina’s plan to find the Cinnabar Hand will mutate even further. She will kill every single person she finds outside of the major cities of the Crystal Forest.”

Erick felt a sudden lethargy. “Please don’t be hyperbolic at me.”

“I have every reason to believe what I say. Though a few centuries have passed, she is the same as always, according to everything we have found.” Eduard said, “Time will tell which one of us is correct, and I just want you to know, now, that when the time comes, we will welcome your help in giving Messalina the justice she deserves for the crimes she has committed.” He sincerely added, “Thank you for the cake. Please enjoy your time in Oceanside.”

A sudden anger overtook Erick. He asked, “Why don’t you help her find the Hand? You cannot possibly believe that her reasons for leaving her jungle are wrong.”

Eduard frowned. He kept his voice even, saying, “The Cinnabar Hand is a known enemy factor taken into consideration everywhere. City Guards take care of all of that; and civilians are forbidden from acting on suspected impostors. Messalina is an outsized threat, living outside of the city, that spawns other threats.” He said, “Dopplegangers are murdered on confirmation, but it is up to adventurers and mages like you and me to deal with those like Messalina.”

Erick breathed deep. He said, “I came here for a few other reasons, too. I need a [Polymorph] potion for Oceanside enrollment. I want to buy one from you, or however Jane went through this process. Is [Reflection] just [Rebound] and [Ward]? And... I understand what you’re saying, Eduard. Really. I do. She killed random people in anger, and she doesn’t sound like the best person in the world. But right now, she is hunting hunters.”

Eduard said, “[Reflection] is indeed [Rebound] and [Ward]. Good luck. Ramizi is selling a brisk market of [Polymorph] potions. I can get you one; they’re a thousand gold and a grand rad. Or two grand rads. Whichever you prefer.” He paused. He added, “Messalina’s balance of souls is hundreds of thousands in the negative. Whatever she does in the future— whatever good she accomplishes will always be tarnished by countless lives taken before their time.”

“Are you talking about murders, or reinstating people in other bodies.”

Eduard blanked, then said, “There is no difference.”

Erick stood there. Then he gave a mental push to Ophiel on his shoulder. Ophiel blipped away in a smattering of white light. He reappeared in moments; Handy Aura holding the bright red grand rad taken from the red [Ward] wyrm, and one of the eight green grand rads taken from the Toxic Hydra. Eduard’s eyes went wide as he looked upon the bright red grand-rad.

“Uh.” Eduard said, “Just the red one, is fine.”

“Nonsense.” Erick took the grand rads with his own Handy Aura, and set them on the front step in front of Eduard. “The price is two. This is two.”

Eduard looked down to his icy fox [Familiar]. The blue fox blipped away and right back, daintily carrying a dark glass flask in his icicle-filled mouth. Eduard took the flask and handed it over. Erick took the potion. Pearlescent black light flowed inside, like warm honey. It almost looked sinister.

Eduard said, “You must drink it all at once and then nothing else for an hour. It helps to Meditate while the potion takes hold, making sure the change settles in like a fine liquor. If you don’t get it right your guts will spurt out of both ends for about an hour, but Ramizi’s potions have a ninety percent success rate.”

Erick held the potion in his hand, then said, “Thank you.” He asked, “Is Spur treating you three okay? I saw some other humans out in the fields the other day, but not much else besides that.”

“Spur is a fine city. The Headmaster has wanted agents out here for a while, but no one was willing to take the post, and subject themselves to the disharmony of the city and its neighbors. And then you showed up.” Eduard said, “It has been a wonderful experience, getting to know this Spur.”

Erick nodded, and held up the potion, saying, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Archmage.”

- - - -

Erick sat in the sunroom. Poi stood to the side, watching. The rod of [Treat Wounds] and the [Polymorph] potion sat on the table in front of Erick.

Erick asked, “Was it just me, or did that feel like a particularly awful talk?”

“He did not invite you inside.” Poi said, “He is exceedingly angry, but he is good at hiding it. He was exactly as polite as normal city-life demands, and not a touch more than that.”

Erick frowned. “I thought so.” Erick asked Poi, “This thing with Messalina... What do you think?”

“I think Messalina needs to die for her crimes and that she is a threat to the security of this household. Taking into account her murder of murderers, and her... version of recalcitrance in her letters? I don’t know. She is an unknown factor, but many things are.” Poi said, “I cannot say, sir. But I do wish her the best in a speedy resolution to her vengeance.”

Erick breathed deep. He stared at the polymorph potion as he thought.

He said, “You know, Poi? In my world, historically, revenge was almost never the correct, best choice of action. Accomplished revenge makes the person think that their actions were justified, and upon getting their pound of flesh, they realized they only want more, against other real or imagined slights. Violence begat violence.” He added, “And there’s the fact that just ruminating on revenge makes a person crave additional violence. And there’s the fact that revenge never restored what was lost in the initial act of violence.”

Poi listened.

Erick turned to Poi, asking, “Is that thinking correct at all, here?”

Poi frowned slightly. He said, “I don’t know, sir. But even you had courts and justice, right? What are those, but revenge organized by the state? What are those, but a community coming together to say that a person’s revenge is the correct action to undertake?”

“There’s a degree of separation and communal judgment when a court is involved. It's not revenge.”

Poi said, “I can tell you right now that if Messalina showed up and asked for Spur’s help in locating the Hand we would be honor bound to execute her for her many, many, well documented necromantic crimes.”

Erick sighed out, saying, “Fuck.” He asked, “Is putting some willing person’s soul into a new body, murder?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Poi frowned. “Because they died.”

Moments passed. Erick stared at the black potion, wondering if soul transferral really was murder, or not. Maybe he just wasn't understanding what 'soul transferral' truly meant. He decided to put those thoughts out of his mind for now.

He asked, “How bad were letters Messalina sent us, warning us about the Headmaster?”

Poi said, “She is a self-involved cultist devoted to the temple of herself. But this does not make her wrong about at least one thing. The Headmaster is not Rozeta. He is not neutral. He takes a side, and never wavers.” Poi smiled, saying, “The Headmaster is rather famous for his desire to see both the moons of Hell and Celes destroyed.”

Erick would have laughed, if the subject wasn’t so heavy. He said, “That’s one way to end the Quiet War.” Erick picked up the black potion. It had been sealed shut with [Stoneshape]. With a bit of his own [Stoneshape], Erick unfurled the pinched-glass bottleneck. “Here’s to good resolutions, whatever they may be.”

“I hope so,” Poi said.

Erick downed the potion, all at once. It tasted of licorice and body modification, which was a very weird taste. Erick Meditated. Tingles and touches flowed through his body, under his skin, along his bones. Through his guts and further down. Like an internal, gentle massage, the potion did its thing.

And Erick Meditated, feeling the mana all around him, like a warm ocean. His own mana flowed out, as new mana flowed in.

After 45 minutes, the potion stopped squirming. A blue box appeared.

Polymorph, instant, 500 MP

Change your physical body.

Familiar Forms: 1/12

~Erick Flatt

Erick breathed in, and left the skill at that. Jane once spoke of a slime body and the ability to remove unwanted invaders with a pluck of [Telekinesis]; maybe Erick needed to get a slime of some sort, too.

But that was enough of that. It was time to rain on the farms and to find the proper [Teleport] path to Oceanside.

- - - -

Ophiel blipped across the empty sky, blue all around, wind under his wings. Far below laid the sands of the Crystal Forest. He blipped again, and still, the sky was blue all around, and the Crystal Forest stretched out in all directions. The sand here might have been a shade darker than before, or maybe not. Crystal Agave and Mimics plagued the land in every direction.

This place truly was an ecological disaster.

Ophiel, and Erick, ignored the thousand year old environmental problem under them, and blipped again.

Sand met the sea; theoretically. Ophiel couldn’t see anything at that juncture of land and ocean, because the land was covered in Crystal Mimics. The jangling, blue-white monsters picked at the beach, stabbing green kelp that had washed up on shore, slicing it into bits and eating those bits. This was no place to have a nice picnic, but if someone was so inclined, they could probably get a lot of experience here. But only if they were at a level that could both handle this number of monsters, and still get something from the killing.

A red mother mimic prowled among the rest.

Ophiel stared at the monster, but then decided to ignore it.

Another blip sent Ophiel deep into the sky above the ocean. Blue above; darker blue below.

Blip.

Ocean.

Blip. Blip. More ocean.

... Blip. Blip. Blip

... Blip, blip, blip-blip-blip-blipblipblipblipblip—

Land!

Now... if this was Oceanside, it would have... This was not Oceanside. This island was a tiny thing. Trees dotted the land just past the beach, and past that was a hill, but past that, was more ocean. This was not Oceanside. This was just a tiny, nowhere island.

Ophiel blipped north. Then blipped again, and again. Then he vanished; dismissed.

Erick came back to himself, sitting in the sunroom, looking over the maps set on the coffee table.

... Okay. Back to the original plan. Full [Teleport]s east, ten times, then three south. Fuck trying to find a shorter path. Oceanside really shouldn’t be this hard to find. It was a freaking two thousand kilometer long island, for Rozeta’s sake! Like, twice the length of New Zealand, but it was skinny the whole way from northeast to south-southwest. Erick might have overshot it, actually.

It took Erick forty five more [Teleport]s to find Oceanside, but he finally found an ‘island’ which was absolutely covered in mountains, beaches, seaside cliffs, and trees hundreds of meters tall. Flying high in the sky over the center, Erick barely saw the ocean on one side, and after flying rapidly east, the other ocean came into view.

Another blip took Ophiel north. Over the ocean. Nothing but ocean, in every direction.

... Another blip south repositioned Ophiel over the actual Oceanside academy. Elation carried through from Erick to Ophiel, and Ophiel reflected that happiness back to Erick; they had finally found their destination. It really shouldn’t have been this hard to find. The city was the size of the lower half of a ten kilometer-wide mountain, after all.

Smooth cream-colored towers stretched up from densely packed city with roofs and buildings of every color. The city grew upon the arms and back of a crescent of mountain that long ago must have been the site of a massive celestial impact, or a long dead volcano. The land of the city stretched out into the ocean, like arms enfolding the water, while cliffs stretched north and south of the city, separating a thin beach from the treelines above the water. Oceanside was the perfect, naturally protected harbor, in the middle of a coast of tall cliffs.

Boats flying every color cloth and design sailed in and out of that harbor, while people flew around on [Force Platform]s, or on their own, from one place to the next.

Erick spent the next hour plotting a better course to Oceanside, and making sure his mana still flowed to the Ophiel over the farms; it did, the farms were getting their rain. When Erick was done plotting that course, he came back to himself, sitting in the sun room across from Kiri.

Erick laughed, happy to see Kiri; to have someone to talk to about what he had just done.

“Welcome back.” Kiri asked, “Did you find the path?”

“I did!” He exclaimed, “Magic is fucking amazing! I could go there right now, if I wanted. Back on Earth a trip like this would take planning and organization, and I’d have to pack myself into a tin can that flies and sit there with my legs cramping up for hours. But no! Not on Veird!” Erick gusted, “Wonderful.”

Kiri smiled, saying, “It boggles me how your people managed to live without magic.”

Erick switched gears. “It boggles me how a few bad apples in your societies don’t use the Script to just kill everyone they want.” Erick said, “Sure, you got killers on Veird, too, but if the average person on Earth had access to this level of weaponry we’d have had an apocalypse on our hands.”

Kiri paused. She scrunched her face at Erick, asking, “Really?”This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.

“Yes,” he said. “Undoubtedly.”

“But wouldn’t people like that tend to die early, and quickly? That’s what happened to the people like that back in Tower Town.” Kiri said, “We call people like that waywards; those who cannot maintain the politeness that city life demands. They usually become hunters living outside the walls, if they can live long enough to not get executed by the Guard.”

Erick said, “We just didn’t have access to this level of power, Kiri. Not on the individual level. Earth and Veird’s circumstances are vastly different, in almost every way. We didn’t live in walled cities. We didn’t have monsters outside those non-existent walls.”

“... Surely you still had violence?”

“Physical violence was a very small part of life.” Erick thought for a second, and said, “My life, anyway.” He thought for another second, then said, “Mostly.”

“Oh. Emotional violence, then? That’s pretty common.” Kiri seemed to speak from experience, “Very common.”

Erick nodded. “The first time I ever killed anything was when I came here. Back on Earth, I was just a guy in the system, trying to get by and help others in the process.” Erick said, “Most people were like that.” He added, “But actual violence was rare; the State was supremely powerful. You couldn’t act against them; not really.”

“That sounds almost exactly the same as here, though.”

Create a mobile, hovering platform of stone that moves quickly at your discretion. Supports a large amount of weight. Lasts 1 hour.

You and the people or objects on your Teleporting Platform appear in a known location, max 1000km distance.

Erick read over the spell, then dismissed the box and looked to his feet. The platform was different than before. Where it had been sand turned into solid stone, now it was stone with white words carved into the surface, like a hundred slashes all jumbled up in a circular runic pattern. The words were Ancient Script. [Teleport] had been inscribed upon the platform, in deep, white lines of Force, in that same circular writing that Kiri showed him that formed the basis for modern mage training.

With a push at the spell, the platform moved through the air the same as before.

With a deeper push, Erick and the platform [Teleport]ed down to the ground, next to Poi.

Poi yelped, then complained, “Sir!”

Erick laughed, saying, “I got our ride to Oceanside. You ready to go?”

Poi breathed in, calming himself as he looked down at Erick’s [Teleporting Platform]. He asked, “It... can [Teleport] all of us?”

“Yup!” Erick said, “All at once, too. Might have to take a break halfway through, but I got a delivery to make to Odaali anyway.”

Poi frowned. “You’re really going to give them unwanted... artifacts? Sir?”

“I will not be seen as someone who reneges on their bargains.” Erick said, “I’m still mad at Tenebrae for failing to show up to kill the second Queen Daydropper.”

Poi said, “Very well, sir.” He looked over the platform. “So... We just stand on it?”

The platform was only a foot off the ground, but Erick dropped it all the way to the sand, saying, “Yup! Hop on up.”

Poi read the writing, but said nothing as he stepped onto the platform. Erick dismissed all but one Ophiel, and turned that last one small enough to sit on his shoulder. Poi set his feet a bit wider, then nodded.

With a crash of white, the platform, Erick, Poi, and Ophiel, all [Teleport]ed, back to Spur, directly in front of the house.

- - - -

In the front yard, Kiri stood upon Erick’s [Teleporting Platform] and read over the Ancient Script for the third time, while Erick continued to step out of the way so she could read.

Kiri spoke as she read, saying, “This is... As far as I can tell, it’s a perfect diagram of the [Teleport] rune.” She stood up, waving a hand saying, “The last time I didn’t know, but I looked it up.” She gestured at the [Teleporting Platform], saying, “This is how we know of Ancient Script and of the Runes; sometimes they appear on uncommonly good spellwork. Higher tier [Teleport] spells almost always get the Ancient Script inscribed upon them.”

Teressa stepped onto the platform and set down two huge bags, right where Kiri was pointing, saying, “Done inspecting the spellwork?”

Kiri frowned at the disrespect of the magic, moving aside for Teressa, saying, “You all really should respect this level of magic more.”

Rats followed Teressa onto the platform, plopping more bags where Kiri was reading, saying, “Time to get this show on the road.”

Kiri pouted, narrowing her eyes at Rats, as she continued to read the platform. Rats just smiled, as he sat down where she was reading. Kiri harrumphed. She folded her arms together and ignored the floor at her feet.

Erick asked, “Don’t you have bags to get, Kiri?”

Kiri sighed, then hopped off the platform to walk past Poi, into the house.

Poi set his bag on the platform, saying, “Odaali has been informed, and they’re not happy.”

Erick frowned. “Yetta, Wilhelmina, and Cyril? None of them want what they bargained for?”

“That is correct,” Poi said.

Teressa said, “That’s disappointing.”

“They’re missing out!” Rats said. He looked at the platform, saying, “Doesn’t the Wayfarer’s Guild have one of these?”

Poi said, “Yes. Two of them. The Farmer’s Council has both of those mages contracted out for the foreseeable future, though. The Wayfarer’s Guild of Spur is happy. Usually this spell goes unused.”

Kiri came out of the door of the house, carrying a bag, saying, “Ready!” She hopped up onto the platform, saying, “All good.” She turned to Poi, saying, “No important documents left.”

“Good.” Poi said, “Then I’m ready, too.”

Teressa stood tall on the platform, her grey armor glinting in the afternoon sun, saying, “Ready.”

“Good to go!” Rats looked up at the sun, shading his eyes as he said, “It’s going to be dark by the time we arrive if we leave any later than this.”

“Quite right.” Erick looked around at the flat, orange stone of the Human District, and his garden out front. Lemon trees swayed in the breeze, while the house stood tall, and firm. It was a good house; two towers, three floors. Plenty of space. Erick breathed in the desert air, and said, “Okay.”

Ophiel hovered over the platform, singing in soft violins in his tiny, tiny form, as he set down on Erick’s shoulder. He settled in with tiny, hidden talons gripping into Erick’s shirt, as his eyes winked open and shut, taking in the sights.

Erick said, “Okay!”

Blip.

They reappeared a thousand kilometers to the east, a hundred meters up from the ground, exactly on track to where Erick had pathed earlier in the day. Wind blew, and Rats laughed as he looked out across the land. Teressa smiled. Kiri stared, while Poi was as calm as ever. Rats, Teressa, and Kiri each sat down, each with their own expressions of sudden surprise on their faces; Poi and Erick remained standing.

Rats said, “I don’t actually have a flight spell.” He looked out across the land, saying, “But I can see the appeal.”

Erick said, “We should get you one! I can help, you know.”

Rats smiled, saying, “No thanks. This isn’t for me.”

Poi said, “You should get one. I foresee us traveling like this quite a lot.”

Rats chuckled as he edged toward the edge, looking down, “Maybe I should.”

Erick glanced at his mana. [Teleport]ing 5 beings and their stuff seemed to cost 600-ish mana, meaning he could do seven [Teleport]s until he needed a rest. Good to know. He said, “Here we go.”

Blip. Blip. Blip.

The Temporary White Palace laid in front of Erick and his people. Odaali-in-Exile had retaken the Kingdom City a while ago; almost everyone who had been here was back in Odaali by now. This place was only left as a monolith to the lives lost.

It was a solitary building, now that the battle was over and the battlefield cleaned up. It was also empty, save for one person who stood at the entrance to the White Palace; Yetta.

- - - -

Yetta stood tall in the doorway to the Temporary White Palace. Yellow leather-like [Conjure Armor] protected her dark skin, and held back her curly hair. Bright brown eyes watched as Erick’s [Teleporting Platform] descended to ground level.

Erick hauled out an orange stone box from a bag at his feet, as Poi stepped down onto the grasses next to the platform. Kiri, Teressa, and Rats remained behind as Erick stepped down to the ground, carrying his stone box under an arm. Ophiel lifted up from Erick’s shoulder and took, gently, to the air, as Erick walked to Yetta.

Erick called out, “Hello, Yetta!”

Yetta said, “You should keep those gems with you, and leave.”

Erick paused. He was ten meters away from the Champion. He frowned. He kept walking to her.

Yetta stressed, “Odaali rescinds their bargain struck with you. We need no further support. Please leave.”

Erick paused, again. He asked, “What’s going on here, Yetta?” He asked, “You are Yetta, right?”

Yetta flared a twinge of Divine Fire, flickering the manasphere with an unseen heat. She said, “Of course I am.”

“Then why?” Erick stood three meters from her, now, holding the stone box of gems out to her, saying, “These are artifacts. You can sell them or use them, or what have you. I want to help your nation repair itself.”

Yetta’s eyes flickered from dark brown, to wheat-yellow. She spoke, “I want to accept your help. Odaali wants your help. But we cannot.”

Erick relaxed his arms, holding the box to his side.

Yetta continued, “We have struck deeper bargains with stronger organizations than one singular archmage. A major part of those bargains is to cut ties with you.” She said, “If I were to accept those... artifacts... I would imperil my nation. I cannot do this.”

Erick held the stone box, frowning. He asked, “Who is doing this?”

“The rest of the Republic. From there, I think the true foe lies in wait, in Portal.” Yetta said, “Portal is not just the gateway to Spur and the Crystal Forest, but to almost every nation everywhere with a border on the Letri Ocean.”

Erick frowned deeper, saying, “Caradogh Pogi, the Lower-Trademaster of Portal. He’s a really big deal, isn’t he?”

Yetta's facade cracked. She gusted, “Yes.”

“What the fu—” Erick looked over Yetta, his words cutting out when his eyes saw her waist. Yetta was missing the belt Erick had made her. The artifact belt, worth 60 Strength. At another look, her ring for 30 Vitality was also gone. Disgusted, Erick demanded, “Where’s your belt! I made that for you. What about the other stuff?”

Yetta sighed, saying, “I destroyed them; it was part of the deal.” She added, “All of that which you gave us we destroyed.”

Erick breathed deep. He exhaled, then he said, “Fuck that fucker!”

Yetta chuckled, then frowned again, saying, “Sorry, Erick.”

“I’m sorry, Yetta. I pissed off that asshole and now he’s denying you the ability to accept my help.” Erick said, “The plan to create a [Gate] network is going forward.” He asked, “Does Odaali want a permanent [Gate] to the Crystal Forest? To Spur? That’s what I’m going to work on, now.”

Yetta smiled, softly, and a little sad. She said, “Maybe.” She tilted her head. She looked at Erick then held out her hand, saying, “I’m being told to do this...”

Divine yellow light flowed from her brown hand, like [Teleport], but wider. She moved her hand through the air. There was no dual light, but a flow, a path; a tunnel, somehow. Erick stood straighter. And then the light cut, but the sound did not vanish. Ophiel hummed the tune as he floated beside Erick. His song was a reflection and recreation of Yetta’s —or rather Atunir’s— [Gate].

Erick bowed, saying, “Thank you. Yetta. Atunir.”

Yetta nodded, silently.

Erick briefly looked back to the platform, before turning back to Yetta, asking, “If this box were to fall off the back of the [Teleporting Platform], would that be a problem?”

Yetta said, “We would have to throw such a thing into a grinder and then heavily [Dispel] and [Cleanse] the remains, so that no stray magical corruption was allowed to flourish.”

Erick sighed, saying, “Sorry this couldn’t work out.”

“It is what it is, and nothing more.” Yetta said, “We are rebuilding. We are culling the growing banditry from our wounded nation and bringing scattered people back to their homes. Odaali is coming back. We will be fine without your assistance, though we will always appreciate your help in getting to this point.” Yetta said, “Atunir appreciates your contributions to the world, as well, but she would like to know when you’re going to try making that ‘chocolate’ you talked about.”

Erick smiled, a touch of mirth returning to the day. “Soon. Chocolate is not an easy thing to make.”

Yetta said, “Atunir wishes you to know that there is a tree that produces beanfruit in the jungles of eastern Nergal. You can likely find of this red and white striped fist-sized fruit in Eidolon. It is called ‘Tarip’, and every part of the fruit, seeds and all, are used to make a complicated, sweet and savory, oily jam. This might be a good start.”

Erick made a mental note of ‘Tarip’, and said, “Thank you.” He added, “Good luck with the rebuilding. If your situation should change, I’m not too far away.”

“Thank you, Erick.” Yetta stood tall, saying, “Good luck with your [Gate] network.”

Erick nodded, holding the stone box tight. He turned, saying, “Farewell, Yetta.”

“Farewell, Erick.”

- - - -

Liquid walked into her office, and paused. A stone box sat on her desk. She left her office, demanding, “Where the fuck did this box come from?”

Her secretary, Thom, said, “Archmage Erick’s [Familiar] dropped it off, just now.”

Liquid turned back to her office, and glared at the box, her grey metal skin rippling; it was another box of artifacts, no doubt. Did that idiot not understand what he was doing? He was just making artifacts! And then handing them out!

But maybe she was wrong? Maybe it was something else?

Another ripple of fear passed through her grey metal body. Maybe it was something worse than artifact rings. She tiptoed over to the box. She undid the stone latch, and opened it.

“Slag,” Liquid said, seeing row upon row of silver spheres, each the size of a pebble, each locked into a bar of metal, waiting to be [Metalshape]d onto the fingers of their recipients. “More fucking rings. Dammit.”

“Oh?” Thom stuck his head into Liquid’s office, asking, “Can I get one of those this time? Willpower would be great.”

Injecting as much sarcasm into her voice as possible, Liquid said, “Sure! Would you like a million gold while I’m at it?”

Thom deadpanned, “I could use a raise.”

Liquid slammed the door in his face.