Chapter 85, 1/2

Chapter 85, 1/2

“Nothing official has happened with Candlepoint,” Poi said. “But the War Room below the Mage Guildhouse is full of information, and there’s been nightly meetings all across the city of varying levels of ‘official’. Literally everyone is talking about Candlepoint.” He added, “Also, you missed a morning rain two days ago—”

“Oh. Dammit.” Erick asked, “Do they want any make-up rains?”

Poi continued, “They would prefer for you rain the day after, or at your earliest convenience.” He added, “Or now, is good.”

Erick figured Poi was about to say something like that. He said, “Now, then.”

His Ophiel were still over in the Wasteland Kingdoms right now, too. With a thought, Erick had them blip their whole Saturn-like configurations over into other stone corridors, into decent positions mostly away from each other. And then he paused.

He was going to have them send out [Withering Slime]s to kill some of the respawning mimics, as one last gesture of goodwill before he dismissed them, but everywhere he blipped was orange; the land had been layered with long lasting poison. Sure, there were still mimics down there, struggling in that orange death, but his Slimes would [Cleanse] where they died, and that would be bad.

So Erick just dismissed those Ophiel as he conjured another to sit upon his shoulder. Ophiel trilled in happy violins as he fluffed up on his perch, tiny and resplendent and happy to be home.

While Poi likely told someone what was about to happen, Erick blipped Ophiel onto the roof of his mage tower, and then he brought the rain. Normal rain, this time. The quick pat-pat-pat of rapidly resolving raindrops rapidly shifted into a static rush. A tiny crack of lightning flashed overhead, shifting the twilight, rainy evening, briefly into brightness.

Teressa smiled, as she looked out the kitchen window, saying, “I like the rain.”

Erick smiled back, saying, “Let’s crack open that keg.” He added, “And find one of those meetings for tomorrow, or the next day. Anyone know of a good one?”

Teressa got up from the dinner table, saying, “One keg, coming right up!”

- - - -

Erick woke from a good night’s sleep, then went and made breakfast. While that was happening, he brought the rains on time, this time. And then it was time for work.

Ophiels sang on the windowsill of Erick’s tower, while Erick turned diamonds into torus rings for the heavy hitters of Spur, and he was only slightly hungover. Diamond dust drifted on the air. It sparkled like glitter, at first, when [Stoneshape] chipped large chunks off of the diamond bands, but soon he was past that initial carving stage. Diamond dust floated through the air, landing on every surface of—

The Ophiel on the nearby perch twittered in guitar twangs, as six eyes looked backward.

Erick turned. Poi was at the entrance to his tower. He didn’t look happy.

Erick asked, “Something wrong?”

Poi reluctantly said, “... No. Probably not.”

Erick frowned at the man, though he probably didn’t see it through Erick’s face mask.

Poi said, “Delia Greentalon is requesting an audience.”

“... Ah.” Erick said, “Is she here? Now?”

“Yes.”

Erick invited her into the [Prismatic Ward] of the house, as he said, “Tell her I’ll meet her in the sunroom, after I clean up."

- - - -

Erick, mostly free of dust and sort-of clean, met Delia in the sunroom.

Delia had dressed up for the occasion. She wore what Erick thought of as ‘Sunday Best’, with an eggshell white shirt and black pants, with embroidery on the hems, cuffs, and collar. Shiny black shoes, with nary a stray crease, adorned her feet; they looked new. She had a brief smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. As soon as Erick appeared, she merely stood there, next to the couch, looking at him, the pinks of her facial scales turning a bit darker, either with anger or... something, Erick couldn’t tell.

“Hello, Miss Greentalon. Delia.” Erick said, “Sorry I couldn’t fulfill my end of the agreement.”

Delia was still a 15 year old girl, no matter the Script and the rest of the world thought of her as an adult; that’s what Matriculation meant, after all. Erick had a hard time seeing her as a grown-up, but as she started to speak, he could see the adult Delia would become.

“Archmage Flatt. Thank you for agreeing to see me without notice.” Delia continued, “I apologize that I was such a mess the last time we spoke. I am of a much clearer head, these days. As such, I have come to you with an alternative to what I asked of you before.”

Erick already had an idea of how he would help her, but he gestured to the couch next to Delia, as he took a seat on the other. He let her do her thing, as he said, “Please. Speak.”

She sat down, and said, “My arrangement with my fellow orphans was predicated on the ability for me to gain a boon of some sort, in order to make the transition of Matriculation and adulthood easier on those who choose to ally with me. But since that has fallen through, the majority of them have taken up with others. I wish them well. But...” She breathed. She said, “I have a core group that wishes to become the best version of themselves they can. There are ten of us, and we have each been working hard to gain levels and power enough to protect others. We have been killing mimics, using the method you told me, with rolling boulders and [Stoneshape]. I am level 35 and currently the highest, but the others are catching up, quickly.”

Erick smiled, thinking about how he had to invent [Withering] before he got to that level. Leveling from level one apparently went a lot faster when you were prepared for it, you knew some tricks, and you weren’t shy about raising your hands against monsters.

Delia continued, “Mother Eriliad claims that we are too young to have artifacts, and while I wish she were wrong, I can see the truth in her words. I don’t like what she thinks of me, and she never knew me before I was thrust into her care—” Delia’s face flushed with dark anger as her words gained an edge, but she banished whatever she had been building towards. She calmly said, “My point is that Spur’s Care Service legally speaks for me— for all of us, until we turn 18, but that does not mean they know us. I am fully capable of both protecting myself and learning how to do better.” She said, “But they won’t let me go into Ar’Kendrithyst to hunt real monsters and gain real levels, and I’m not allowed to go too far from Spur— And that’s bloody wrong! I mean. Ah. Sorry.

“Anyway: we’re going into war, soon. It’s all anyone is talking about. My friends and I are proving ourselves out there. We deserve better treatment than what we’re getting.” She asked, “Won’t you please reconsider outfitting us with rings— Or! Or anything! We’ll take anything.”

She was passionate. She was driven. And something felt wrong.

He sent to Poi, ‘Are kids allowed to go out and kill monsters?’

‘Yes.’ Poi, standing in the hallway, outside the room, sent, ‘If they’ve Matriculated, they’re technically adults, but no one under 18 is allowed past the guards at the walls, and [Teleport] inside the city is illegal without a permit. Hard to enforce, though. She just admitted to a minor illegal act.’

Erick didn’t really care about the legality of what Delia had done; she was obviously capable in some way, and Erick was more than used to young women rushing out and carving their place in the world. Jane had been a handful, but he wouldn’t have traded those years for anything on any world. But...

He asked, “How long has it been since your father passed? 15 days?”

“... Yes.”

“I think you should try going slower.” Delia tried to speak, but Erick said, “Please hear me out. If you want to be a Poison Mage, then have you considered schooling at an arcanaeum? I’m willing to foot the bill for ten of you. Maybe more. A lot more, actually. I might could swing Oceanside, too, if you’re interested.” He added, “I just finished helping the Wasteland with their mimic infestation, and they owe me a million 10-mana rads, which is 5 million gold. I could probably pay for a great deal of schooling.”

Delia went silent, as she stared at the floor.

Erick waited.

She stayed silent.

Erick said, “I might even be able to ask after this poison archmage I saw, in the Wasteland. She was a one-woman cloudbank, killing everything she flew over.”

Delia blurted at the ground, “I lied when I said that to you. I don’t want to be a poisoner. I want to track and kill hunters.” She stared at Erick with red-rimmed eyes, saying, “I’m going to murder those who would kill people like my father. My goal is the Class Calamity Dagger, if I can. Assassin, if I can’t. Scourge Mage is the fallback option.”

Erick felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

This sweet little girl? This child that was the first person to greet Erick and Jane, when they first arrived at Spur? This supposed-to-be-innocent person? She wanted to hunt and kill people? To be an ‘Assassin’? Erick seemed to even hear the capital ‘A’ at the beginning of that word. Of course, he knew that Assassin had to be a Class... But Delia wanted to be one?

And then she metaphorically punched him again, with combo attack.

“If you can’t help me, then I’m going to go to Candlepoint.” Delia said, “They know the secrets to unlocking every single Class, and they won’t lie to you like the Registrars lie! Maybe I’ll even get me a pair of artifact daggers that’ll show the way to the nearest killers!”

Erick sat there, stunned, for a few different reasons. He almost said something about ‘if you kill people, the number of killers in the world doesn’t change’. But he’d had that conversation with Jane when she was younger. Jane’s response had been ‘not if you kill more than one!’.

Delia asked, “Am I going to Candlepoint, Archmage?”

He instantly said, “You know it’s a trick, right?”

“Everything is a trick!” Delia said, “At least I know about this one in advance.”

“Would you please reconsider Oceanside?” Erick asked, “Or is there another school out there, you could attend?” He tried to come up with some other reason that Delia shouldn’t pursue her goal of being a murderer, as he said, “Besides! Don’t you want a Class like Sin Seeker? I don’t know about the ones you just said, but Sin Seeker would allow you to validate your kills. You need [Witness] to get that one. You need schooling to get [Witness]— Or at least a tutor. You could do everything you want to do, but not as you are. All of your goals means time taken to grow into who you want to be, which has the side benefit of ensuring that what you’re going for is truly what you want.”

Delia looked away.

Erick continued, “Your father was killed under two weeks ago by an attack orchestrated by a man who moved nations. Don’t fool yourself, Delia. You will not be some lucky young upstart that goes out and kills people like that, just because they deserve to be killed. You will die, Delia, to people who have been at this for literal centuries —I'm imagining— and you will get your friends killed in the process. You are rushing ahead too fast—”

She shot to her feet, saying, “I know I am! But what else can I do!” Angry tears streamed, as she said, “There are dangers out there! And I’m too weak right now! I need power! And— And—” She forced her voice to an even keel. “I need help. Help now. Not the help of five years of arcanaeum.”The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñòv€l-B1n.

Erick remained seated, and calm. “You need to focus on what you want, and take the necessary steps to get there. Rushing ahead is the opposite of that. Rushing ahead means you’re not prepared for the monsters you’re trying to face.” He added, “And the answer to your problem is not to get in league with the Shades.” He stressed, “I don’t know how many Water Seasons you spent at Spur, but you know what kind of monsters those monsters are. Don’t pretend that what they’re doing with Candlepoint is anything but a trick.”

“Please! Give me something!”

“I have offered a few different safe options, but you don’t want the safe options. You want me to give you power that will get you killed, and I won’t do it. I’m already giving out rings to the Army and the Guard, but they’re people who can defend themselves, as far as I know.” He said, “Right now, it looks to me like you just want to get yourself killed, meaning that my artifact rings will fall into the hands of people who shouldn’t have them.”

Delia glared past Erick, not wanting to look directly at him as tears ran down her face. “I apologize for wasting your time, Archmage.”

“You’re not a waste of my time.” Erick said, “Please don’t think that, Delia.”

The young pinkscale girl just nodded. Without warning, she rushed out of there, her shoulder hitting the archway of the room as she ran.

Erick stood up, halfway to running after her, but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He sat back down, listening to Delia run through the foyer—

There was a ‘blip’ sound.

“Hey!” Kiri’s voice sounded.

Just as Poi said, “Fucking Heaven and Hell, Delia!”

Oh no.

Erick rushed out of the sunroom.

Kiri, or someone, was upstairs, running toward... Erick’s mage tower?

In the three seconds it took Erick to think that he should revoke Delia’s [Prismatic Ward] permissions, Delia was gone.

He rushed upstairs, to stand beside Kiri and Poi, next to the entrance to his tower. The accoutrements of his ring production were still set out, as were the grab-bag boxes for the stronger, torus versions of his rings he was making for Sirocco, Mog, Silverite, Al, Jane, and others. He didn’t know the ring sizes of everyone, exactly, so he had made several pairs, knowing that the extra could go to someone, surely. He had already finished enchanting twenty of the torus-shaped diamond rings, but had been working on many more, when Delia showed up.

That made him feel a little better, but it was a sad sort of happiness. There were a few other new and interesting options to this full Ability list, but none of them seemed important. That 10% spell cost reduction called to him, though.

The third box was enough to take his mind off the rest.

Ability Slot Increase Quest!

10 Points

OR

100,000,000 Mana and/or Health

Erick pointed, asking, “That’s all? A hundred million in either Mana or Health?”

“Or both.” Irogh said, “It’s not as easy as your regeneration might lead you to believe. It requires active concentration to pay that cost, and Meditation does not work while you’re concentrating on this Quest. But since you have [Prismatic Ward], and that imposes Rest, then you might have an easier time of this Quest than most.” He looked to the air, saying, “And, with a little bit of math—” He looked to Erick. “It seems that with your regeneration, it would take almost 70 days of non-stop concentration in order to complete this quest. The next level is one billion mana. That would take 700 days.” He added, “But subsequent versions of this test, though they may increase in Mana and Health costs, do not increase in Point costs. Ten Class Ability Slots is still the maximum, though.”

Erick said, “I accept this quest.”

Irogh nodded. The third box vanished.

Erick brought up the Quest and put it away a few times, rapid fire, before turning back to Irogh. “So about some of these Abilities. ‘Hero of Veird?’ What triggered that?”

Irogh did not have to look to the air, to say, “You killed a million monsters.”

He didn’t want to, but he had to, so Erick asked, “And this... ‘Hunter’?”

“10 people at or near your level.”

Erick stared at nothing for a moment. Then he took his mind off of whatever feeling he was feeling, by asking, “What other Class Abilities can I upgrade? Or is that in the ‘restricted information’ category?”

“It is restricted, if you want to know how you unlocked other Classes, I can certainly tell you that.”

Erick looked left, at the largest hovering box. “Why Blood Mage?”

Irogh glanced at the air, then said, “You have created a spell that works off of information contained in the blood. [Cascade Imaging].”

“Just tracking people is Blood Magic? But it’s purely physical identification and matching. There’s no... whatever there is, when it comes to Blood Magic. Control or manipulation of blood, I assume? The first time I heard about Blood Magic was after I made [Cascade Imaging].”

“The Script has a definition for Blood Magic, and your spell qualifies that definition.” Irogh read from the air, “ ‘Blood Magic is the control or manipulation of living flesh, in harmful, helpful, or neutral ways.’ Identification of people falls under this definition.”

Erick retorted, “But it’s not Blood Magic! It’s just a matching system!”

Irogh flicked his eyes to a different part of the air. He said, “I’m supposed to say... Let me see if I got this right: ‘to-may-toe, to-mah-to’. Or ‘red tomato, purple tomato’.”

“... Is Rozeta watching right now?”

“Rozeta is always in attendance for these meetings, with everyone who comes through the blue door.”

“Great!” Erick asked, “Are the gods planning on doing anything against Candlepoint? Are we flattening the place?”

Irogh frowned a little, then perked up, to look at another part of the air. “Ah. Normally you would be told to go to the Church... But I have been given some information regarding that.” Irogh glanced at the air, then said, “I can only tell you about Rozeta, and she is already heavily investigating everything about the location, and that there is nothing to worry about. The Script is stable.”

“... Okay. So? She says the Script is stable? I wasn’t asking about that, but does that mean that the stuff Candlepoint is making are true adjustments to the Script? Does Melemizargo have administrator rights, or something? A backdoor, maybe?” Erick demanded to know, “How is he allowed to cast magic at all?”

Irogh put his hands on his desk and laced his fingers together. He sighed, as he suddenly looked twenty years older. He said, “We don’t actually know how he’s able to work his magic. Every ‘truth’ that the Cult of the Dark Dragon speaks of has been verified as false, except one. He is the last Dark God to exist, and gods are not wholly subject to the Script.” He added, “But, the truth is that no one can answer that question except for the Shades and Melemizargo himself, and none of them would speak that truth without trying to kill or control you first.”

Erick let that be, for now, even though his personal experience said that Irogh was wrong about Melemizargo’s interactions, except when it came to wrought. Instead, he asked, “How would I go about getting ‘Time Mage’ added to my list?”

“I cannot...” Irogh separated his hands as he glanced up, to another different part of the air. He said, “Normally... I can’t say. But... it appears you have a ‘Champion’ designation waiting for you from... Uh... Phagar.” Irogh’s cool demeanor shifted to unease, briefly, then to acceptance. “So... To answer your question: You need his direct approval to be a Time Mage. And you already have it.”

“... So if I wanted to be a Time Mage, I could.”

“Theoretically. I have no experience with this class. At all. I don’t even know what being a Time Mage means, so I cannot help you with what that means, either. You would have to get help from Phagar’s clergy to answer that question. But you’d probably have to talk directly to Phagar for any real answers.”

“A different question, then.” Erick asked, “What does it mean to be a Champion?”

“I cannot say, exactly. Each god is different.” Irogh smiled a little, but it was a sad sort of smile. “Whatever the case, that is out of my power to help you with. In addition: it seems that parts of this conversation will be erased from my memory when you leave, so if you wish to come back to this topic in the remainder of our time in this session, it means more and more of this conversation will be blanked from my memory. After today, please don’t bring up anything with regard to Champions to me, ever again. Please.”

Erick paled. Phagar would do that? Or would Rozeta do that? Obviously they would, but—

He remembered, back to when he was surrounded by gods and other Relevant Entities of the Script, on top of a blackened caldera, and they were deciding his fate. People were far, far below the power of gods, and if people got too uppity, it was even possible for them to wage a Forgotten Campaign, to erase the memory of a thing from the world.

Erick felt his face redden, as his heart beat hard, and anger began to bubble from within. Sure, they were gods, but who did they think they were?!

Irogh saw Erick’s building anger, and said, “This is not a problem for me. It’s easier this way. Consider the fact that we are going to be at war with the Shades soon and that they have ways of extracting information— Well... I’m just going to tell you that I am going to run, to flee Spur, as soon as war actually begins. Hopefully I can avoid the rush.” He said, “I have been targeted before, and it’s very, very tough to harm a Registrar, but that wouldn’t stop some people from trying. I have yet to try my skill against a Shade, but that is a trial I do not want to undertake.” He added, “Sometimes a bit of forgetfulness helps to keep the world from crumbling, Erick. Sometimes, forgetting is a gift. Ask any immortal, and they would tell you the same.”

Erick felt a sudden compassion for Irogh. He said, “Sorry... I didn’t consider you in all of this.”

Irogh smiled. He said, “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. Now, would you like to change some other things about how the Script displays for you?”

Erick felt like he was experiencing whiplash, but he soldiered on. “Yes. One other question, though: These new Stats that are coming out of Candlepoint. Are they real?”

Irogh spoke as though he had said the same thing, multiple times, “As far as we can tell, the new Stats coming out of Candlepoint are real, but they are also a poison. Much how like Strength makes a person feel stronger, yet Willpower does not affect a person’s mental nature, these new Stats might have unforeseen consequences, such as a desire to become a cannibal, or to kill and kill again.”

Erick stared at Irogh. “... And you’re still saying Melemizargo doesn’t have administrator access to the Script.”

“Correct. He does not, and he never had.”

Erick didn’t believe that for a moment. Whatever was going on with Melemizargo and the Script was a lot deeper than the gods were willing to speak. And that didn’t sit right with Erick. In fact, it sat rather wrong. So wrong, that he spoke up, “That’s such bullshit. Rozeta must know how he does this.”

Irogh frowned, then said—

A blue box appeared in the air, facing Erick.

He’s a wizard and a god, Erick.

As soon as you figure out how you managed to influence the mana to create entirely new spells that no one had ever seen before, even though I guarantee that some of your knowledge has been out there for a long time before you came along, let me know!

Plugging that leak would make many things a lot easier for everyone.

By that same token, realize that you do not want us gods solving your mortal problems.

No one wants that. Ever.

Also: Please do not harass my registrar.

Erick blanked at the blue box. After a moment, he said, “Okay? Sorry?”

The blue box vanished.

Irogh sat silently.

Erick said, “... I’d like to see the various display options for my Status and otherwise, please. And I’d like to know what the requirements were to unlock Particle Mage.”

“Of course.”

- - - -

Erick walked through the streets of Spur, his grand rads spent, and his Willpower and Focus each increased by 10 points, to 75 base, or 125 with his rings. His maximum mana was now 7500, while his regeneration was 32,100, for both Health and Mana. Nothing else had changed in his Status. There had been options to display his Status and the entirety of his known spells as a book that he could flip through, along with a few other ways, like coded messages, but he liked the boxes just as they were; they reminded him of computer prompts, but seen through the lens of Veird.

He did spend the rest of his grand rads though, mainly on behalf of Delia Greentalon. The next time she went to a registrar, she might see that gift, and it might make her a little bit happier. Plus, no one could steal that sort of gift.

And that thought brought Erick back to his current problems.

There were just too many problems in the world.

Luckily, ‘Particle Mage’ might not be one of them. Those requirements were steep! The Baroness had been right. Except for maybe Kiri, there might not be another Particle Mage until Veird’s science progressed to the equivalent of Earth’s 19th century. But if that never happened, then Erick and Kiri might be the only Particle Mages to ever exist.

But back to Veird’s problems: Erick didn’t think it was his job to solve any of them, but he would certainly do his part! Think global, act local; as he had always tried to do. He was certainly not ready to become a Champion, either, but it was nice to know the option was there, though that whole thing seemed rather ominous. But what he was ready to do, was create some anti-Shade spells.

... Considering that what he was planning would be useful against anything and anyone, calling them ‘anti-Shade’ spells was slightly disingenuous.

... But actually. Maybe he should leave the big damaging spells for another day, because he needed a way to counter spells like the Red Dot.

And that reminded him! Now that he had [Lightwalk], it was time to resume his work on [Gate]. Maybe that would lead to a [Teleport Other Person’s Spell] spell.

Erick needed another reason to visit Apogee, and this was perfect!

So much to do! So little time.

Oh. I should try to invent those Stat fruits they have, shouldn’t I?

Erick took another step, but stopped, as he paused in thought.

Ohhhhh. I really like that idea, too.