Chapter 197, 1/2

Chapter 197, 1/2

The morning arrived as it normally did; without explosions of any kind.

It was Erick’s preferred way to start the day.

No explosions, some nice coffee, and a nice danish. Though they weren’t called danishes here on Veird. They were simply called pastries, and the one sitting half-eaten on Erick’s plate had been made by Kiri some time ago, and then kept preserved and cold in the pantry for a while. They were a variation of tarip fruit pastries, and though they were not Erick’s preferred type of fruit, they had to be eaten, since they had been made. ‘Going to the market’ would be a big deal these days so they were living off their stockpile for a while. The tarip fruit in these ones had been cut into centimeter cubes, and then cooked with some other stuff to produce a cherry-like flavor. They were actually pretty good. Erick liked the hard white sugar icing, too.

And so, he sat there, on his little breakfast porch, watching the sunrise over Candlepoint in the distance, while he enjoyed breakfast. He also enjoyed watching the Gate to Stratagold in the north, and the wrought build their base in front of the Gate. It was a temporary, blocky structure for now, acting as little more than barracks and an adjacent office building, along with assorted other spaces, but it would serve. It was probably too big, though.

The building itself was fine, and of rather normal size, if actually a bit small, but Stratagold had thrown up a small wall around their entire compound. That wall stretched for about 500 meters square, taking up a lot of land north west of the first Gate.

That plotting coincided —somewhat— with the direction that Alfonin had gestured toward last night, and the wardlight structures that Erick had put up just before that, but Erick did not expect Stratagold to take four adjacent plots for themselves...

But! Eh. Whatever.

Erick still wasn’t sure how to best plan for a Gate Network, anyway.

Maybe an outlet to a different land every 500 meters? And then that land could have an embassy in the adjacent north-west 500 meter square plot? Like in a line from west to east, and facing north? That was sort of what he had going on right now.

He could do it differently, though.

A few soldiers had gone back and forth through the [Gate] (and looked amazed at everything for a good minute before they got to work) but no one else had transferred through. There were wrought guards positioned on both sides to prevent unauthorized transfers... Erick suspected that those guards were just tax collectors, or something. They had a small station set up near the Gate for just such collection purposes, unless Erick’s Sight was deceiving him, and it probably wasn’t.

Each wrought soldier that passed through put a gold coin in the box, though, so that was nice.

Theoretically, other people could go through if they wanted, too, but no one was. Which was fine.

This meant that Erick had some time to solve some future problems before those problems arrived.

He already saw one issue that he wanted to circumvent. In that moment Erick decided he needed at least 2 Gates, maybe 4, from each land. Arrival, Departure, and perhaps a split between cargo and people transportation. So four Gates. It wouldn’t do to have everyone coming through the same way, after all. Cargo would need to be checked and Scanned for monsters and contraband, not to mention the driver giving a truthstone-verified pledge of how much cargo they were hauling and the taxes they expected to pay (or however it actually ended up working out), which would be a minor hassle. People would require a different sort of Scanning and checking. Perhaps from a Sin Seeker? Truthstones all around, though.

All eminently solvable problems.

Erick smiled.

This was going to be fun.

Erick turned, saying, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Poi walked onto the balcony carrying his own pastry and coffee. “Care to Shape up a schedule? For the future?” He sat down. “I’ve been looking up successful rules of rulers, and there is a lot on the subject, but one of the common things is to have a certain kind of schedule.”

Ahhh. It was time for king shit already, was it?

Fair enough.

Erick managed to hold on to his good mood for a moment longer than normal in the face of this particular topic, which helped him to settle back down and secure his thoughts. This was his life, now. He needed to do it right. And since Poi was obviously teasing him, as well as trying to set him on a good path...

Erick breathed deep, glanced outward at the rising sun, and then decided to tease Poi right back.

“You want to be the Evil Adviser Behind The Throne? Second in command?”

Poi smirked. “I can’t. Not allowed. Mind Mage protocols.”

“... That’s awfully convenient for you,” Erick said, scowling.

“I’ll happily be your Perfectly Proper Mind Mage Advisor, though.”

Erick paused for a second. Had Poi just made a joke? He had, hadn’t he. Poi had also accepted the position. Erick laughed, loud and free, then said, “You shouldn’t have to Class Change unless you want to.”

Poi nodded. “So about that daily schedule.”

“Okay. Okay. So... I suppose I would like an overview of what happened while I slept, and what crises I must now solve.”

“Nothing happened while you slept, and there are no crises to be solved.”

Erick gave Poi a Look.

Poi smiled faintly, then said, “All of the initial news of Candlepoint has gone far and wide, and mostly, people are worried. The deeper halls of power are the deeper halls of power, and thus not under my purview, but I can tell you of certain public events that have happened.

“Before that, though, I feel you should consider hiring a proper Knowledge Mage out of whatever Elites the Headmaster sends your way, or however you come across one that you like. You need a proper Knowledge Mage; someone with a memory as good as yours, a deep understanding of the political landscape of the entire world, and who would want to work for a known Wizard. You probably could have gotten a very, very good Knowledge Mage prior to that revelation, but now... I imagine the pickings are either slim, or not people you want to actually deal with.” Poi said, “I’d give you more advice, but I can’t tell you everything that I know, because most of what I know comes from my own Mind Mage Network.” A bit more seriously, “So maybe you should look for a different second-in-command.”

Erick gazed outward.

After a moment, Erick said, “I’ll pick out a Knowledge Mage from Kirginatharp’s Elites... if he has one. And I guess I should actually find a second-in-command then... Eventually.”

Poi nodded, then continued, “Mostly, people are waiting to see what happens next. Those who know of Wizards beyond the horror stories, and who would actually do anything against any apparent Wizard, have already been defanged. The wrought. Oceanside. Rozeta’s paladins. The paladins of all the gods, actually; not a single god has you on their ‘shit list’, as you would put it. And then there’s the dragons, too. Allies instead of enemies. You did that. You disarmed your main opponents before any war could even start.

“So now, as far as I know, the rest of the world is waiting to see what happens next.” With a face purposefully made emotionless, Poi added, “I can tell you that the Dragon Stalkers are gearing up to take the place of those who would usually fight a Wizard, specificallybecause you have allied with Ar’Cosmos. On that news front, and so it doesn’t become an unexpected problem or surprise later, Melemizargo resurrected my sister, Rizala. She is currently a shadeling working under Farix. She is a Mind Mage as well. We have spoken, and as far as I can tell she is Rizala, but... I do not want to talk about it. I won’t let it affect my work.”

Erick’s heart went out to Poi as Poi stared out at the horizon the whole while, not willing to look Erick’s way. He dearly did want to talk about it, but not right now. Maybe later.

Poi frowned a bit more.

It took Erick a long moment to move on, for a thousand thoughts flitted through his mind. How old was Rizala? They had been twins, but Rizala had been killed when Poi was young, and Erick didn’t know the exact timeline, so if Rizala was young, then that meant that Melemizargo had held on to her soul for a long while. But if she was older, then that meant she had been used and abused as a shadeling in Ar’Kendrithyst for maybe as much as a decade and a half.

Poi sighed.

Erick tried to move on, but he couldn’t. Not that fast. He said, “When you want to solve that problem; to get your sister out, or whatever you want. Let me know.”

Poi didn’t breathe for a moment, but then he relaxed, and continued, “The... The Angels and the Demons haven’t done anything overly large, and there haven’t been any conspicuous summonings anywhere in the Crystal Forest... Though the only verifiable source of information we have on that comes from Spur. Spur is still sharing information with us, which is useful.

“Various archmages are reported to have left their usual haunts, while many sightings confirm the Sight of at least Syllea on Oceanside. Tenebrae has been suspiciously silent, but I know he is still alive; that’s all, though.” Poi said, “Gossip and news like that is better handled by a Knowledge Mage.”

Erick moved the conversation along, asking, “I know there aren’t any newspapers on Veird like how I’m used to seeing them, with like, forty pages of small true stories and the like. But there are some papers out there, aren’t there? Quality ones? With current events, and such?”

Poi nodded. “Oceanside’s weekly paper is popular. That’s mostly about stuff happening around Oceanside, though. Smaller yet popular world events section, but since that part of that paper caused two wars over the course of two decades, a few centuries ago, that part of that paper got gutted. There’s a very popular paper in the Pearl Kingdom, called The Irisheet, though those are more weekly fictions than proper news sources. The kinds of papers that you wish to read would probably best come from Knowledge Mages. They’re a loosely affiliated group that shares stories, and some of them produce weekly reports and person-reports for specific individuals. Highly truthful and knowledgeable Knowledge Mages are as sought after as free grand rads on a market street. That’s how people who want to know current events get their knowledge.”

Erick sighed. “That whole profession has always struck me as odd. Professional gossip mongers. But... Jane’s used them before and they steered her right. I suppose I should look to hiring one or ten.” Erick thought. “Is there in one already in Candlepoint?”

“I do not know.”

Erick didn’t believe that for a second.

Poi elaborated. “And see. This is why you need a Knowledge Mage; someone who can talk about that, because there was no way for me to know these things outside of my Mental Magic.”

“Fine fine fine.” Erick said, “I’ll put it on the to-do list. ‘Get a Knowledge Mage’. How does that Class even work?”

Poi smiled a little, then said, “Their power is mostly in the [Identify] spell, like in an Identinomicon, though they take it to an internalized extreme not seen in any other use of that magic. A good Knowledge Mage functions almost as the Sliding System we saw in Enduring Forge, but they’re deeply reliant on how much they already know. Mostly, though, they just have really, really good ways to organize and call up their own memories.”

“Huh. I would have thought the Mind Mages would have cornered the market on that... But I guess your codes demand you not do this.”

Poi nodded. “We have some Mind Mage Knowledge Mages and they are very good at their chosen profession, but they’re also not in the public Sight at all.”

Erick asked, “Got any news from that O’Lark guy? Or from Mage Bank?”

“I know as much as you; the information has gotten out there but nothing has been done yet.” Poi said, “Usually, the world moves a lot slower than how fast you’ve been moving.”

“Most of the world isn’t expecting the world to come down on them like an avalanche of [Force Bomb]s, either.”

“I agree.” Poi said, “And so, having a schedule would do well in allowing you to see to your lands and people, and to ensure that things are being done properly. I’ve literally never done this before, either, Erick, so I’m lost, too. But we can figure it out.

“I know what Silverite does every morning, though, and her system works out well. She first has a secretary —Hera, you met her— brief her of the larger events of the night, which we have already done, and then she checks in with her various appointed powers, like Mog, Zago, and Killzone. The Wayfarer’s and the sewers and the nobles and merchants are a second class of checks, which are usually in the form of mail she looks at every morning. This leads to mornings of talking and smaller events, as needed. Then she oversees judicial concerns that approach her level of necessary oversight in the afternoon. Pretty simple, really.”

Erick felt a weight drop from his shoulders as he listened.

He had no idea why he thought this would be one crisis after another, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? It all sounded pretty simple when Poi put it like that.

“So in the morning... I’ll do magic in the morning, and [Gate] construction, and other physical works. In the afternoon, I’ll deal with letters and such from around the world— Actually. Other way around? Yes. Other way around... But.” He asked, “I’m thinking I need to make a building for House Benevolence. Somewhere for mail to get to, and for people to see me in person. That needs to happen first.”

“And it has to have a proper throne room.” Poi said, “Candlepoint’s throne room was nice, but it could have been better.”

Erick rolled his eyes. “I want to make Candlepoint’s everything nicer, eventually.” He began conjuring lightwards of various buildings, saying, “As for House Benevolence. We’ve seen a lot of different building styles, yet I’m most fond of what we saw in Songli. The large, hollow-mountain style. I even made that one for Clan Red Ledger myself, and so...”

Erick conjured ideas and houses, which were more like mountains. Poi spoke of necessary personnel, and of expansions and security. Erick moved around the lightsculpture, trying to fit everything in, and in a coherent way. They spoke for a while, enjoying reheated pastries and architectural design as the sun fully rose over Candlepoint.

And there were no explosions anywhere that Erick could see.

It was a great way to start the day.

And then the morning got a whole lot better as Jane, Kiri, and Teressa showed up on the porch, bringing with them a full breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Erick had a second, much better meal, along with more nice coffee, as he continued to conjure lightsculptures of a theoretical House Benevolence.

Everyone had some suggestions.

It was a lovely conversation, and Erick was glad to have it—

And then Erick saw some wiry, green-metal old-human man wrought rush through the [Gate] from Stratagold, followed by some exasperated possible-assistants. None of them were soldiers. The old guy was the first person to come through the Gate not ‘dressed’ in uniform armor made of their own metal selves; he was dressed in a loose green metal toga that hung off of him like a bedsheet two sizes too large. His apprentices (they had to be apprentices?) were a male incani and a female incani who wore themselves like they were wearing normal clothes; tunics and pants of nice quality.

The old man got twenty meters out of the Gate, stared at everything around him, and then collapsed to his knees. His apprentices rapidly caught up and started fussing over the old guy, while the old man smiled brightly and shoved his hands forward and up, raising his voice to the sky, “Thank Rozeta for this gifted opportunity! I will make this land unforgettable!”

Ah.

Architect O’Lark? Probably.

He said, “That’s why I want to make this place open and friendly. Perhaps some differences can be solved so that stuff like that never happens again. Though, since we’re airing grievances, I feel the need to stick up for my allies, and say that there’s been a lot of death on all sides, so dragging up the past is only going to degrade everything I’m trying to build here. I’m not saying to forget or forgive those grievances, for that only leads to getting hurt in the same ways again, but I am saying to work around that pain as much as you can.”

Sitnakov looked like he had expected all of that, which he probably had. “This is all happening too fast, Erick. Can I ask you to not invite other lands here until at least a month has passed?”

“... A reasonable request in normal times, but these are not normal times. If I don’t prove myself a stabilizing force, then someone will try something deadly.”

“That’s going to happen anyway.” Sitnakov said, “Nothing you can do will be able to stop that, but if you want to prove your stability to the level-headed people out there, then you’ve got to prove yourself stable. Your city emptied of practically everyone who could leave. You have no staff. No building for that staff. No paper shapers working on mundane shit. Nothing normal at all. Right now you look like a crazy Wizard trying to enact some sort of large scale magic as fast as you possibly can, and it’s— It’s making Stratagold look bad.” Sitnakov had maintained much of his composure as he listed deep, deep problems, but then his composure cracked. “And like, FUCK THEM, but your actions are actually making Ar’Cosmos look more bad, which I didn’t even think was possible.” He finally turned to Erick, and plainly said, “This looks like a Shade plot— And everyone is telling me it’s not! But I know what it looks like, and I suspect you do too.”

Erick felt a chill at those words.

Not just because of their content, but because Sitnakov had deeply meant every word, and he had had no idea how Erick was going to receive his warning. Would Erick believe him? Would he discount him? Was he wrong? Would Erick ever believe any of the warnings he would ever give, or had he forever ruined a deeply important political relationship before he ever had a chance to know how important that relationship would become? Yet again, Sitnakov had fucked up something that someone else would have been better equipped to handle.

For a long moment, nothing was said, because there was too much to be said and not enough patience or time to hold all that meaning.

For his own part, Erick wanted to drag the conversation all the way back to the beginning, and ask Sitnakov why he approached Erick as he had in the Core. Maybe if he actually aired that grievance, maybe move past it. But it was probably a bad idea—

Before Erick could overthink it, he decided to barrel on ahead, and ask that question.

“Why did you attack me like that in the Core, Sitnakov?”

Sitnakov froze. Were they actually doing this, right now? Yeah, he guessed they were. Sitnakov spoke a truth like it should have been the most obvious thing in the world, “Because I wanted to know who you were.”

“And fighting was the best way?”

Sitnakov scowled. “You’re the one who blasted his way through everything to get to the Core instead of talking through any normal channels at all. My response— Stratagold’s response was perfectly normal.” Sitnakov frowned. “Besides! I thought you might be fun to fight, and then we’d fight, and then I’d drag you back to Stratagold and buy you a beer. Obviously, that did not happen.”

“Maybe if I knew that being an ally and also a Wizard was possible before now, then this could have gone some other way. Of course I thought you were coming to murder me.”

Sitnakov scoffed. “Yeah. Well. Allying with Wizards hasn’t historically worked out for us, so we don’t advertise that sort of thing.”

“You’re speaking like open alliances were ever an option at all. We never would have gotten to this point if I showed up as an untempered Wizard on your door. You would have wanted me to be under your thumb the second you found out. So yeah. I had to hide. And yes, I thought you were coming in for the kill back there.”

“... Yeah. Well... You’re probably right.” Sitnakov sighed, then said, “Look. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean for that thing in the Core to happen like it did. Won’t happen again.”

“I accept the apology,” Erick said, rather fast.

Sitnakov stood a bit surprised.

Erick added, “I already accepted your apology the last time, too, and now we’re here, and I’m moving past the ‘could have happeneds’.” Erick moved right along, saying, “Your warning about appearing as a Shade plot is heard loud and clear. The only things I actually need to do right now is get some staff for a House I have yet to build, and then to get all the usual Guilds to come to this Gate District, or to Candlepoint itself. I won’t go opening [Gate]s all across the world for a year, or however long it takes for people to accept that this is happening. Slowing down is fine.”

“Thank the gods,” Sitnakov said softly, fully relieved and without a hint of sarcasm. For all his faults, the man had never been anything less than honest with Erick, and that counted for a lot. For a moment, Sitnakov just stood there, every part of him relaxing, as though he was coming down from an unexpected battle. And perhaps he was. “Thank you for believing me.”

“Of course I believe you, and your warning.” Erick said, “But just one Gate isn’t enough. You heard my proposal to O’Lark, yes. So does Stratagold want four Gates? One each for people coming and going, and product coming and going? I feel like having a full example of a proper Gate Network node is important, and one Gate per one land was never going to be enough.”

Sitnakov frowned a little, as though he were back swimming in the uncomfortable depths of politics and talking, then lost that emotion and shrugged. “I know my father wishes to have more Gates, and we’ve talked about getting at least four of them... Yeah. We’ll take four.”

Erick grinned. “Glad to hear it. Do you have any idea when the first people will come through?”

“No. No idea. We’ve already got trading partners here on the Surface, and a lot of people had prepared to shift their usual routes if you actually managed to pull off this [Gate] thing, but they’re holding onto their [Force Platform]s now that you've announced yourself as a Wizard. Maybe in a month or two some normal trade might actually come through.” Sitnakov shrugged again. “But this makes a connection to Ar’Kendrithyst much easier, and plans there are proceeding as expected. Even if there isn’t much trade you’ll probably get a lot of diplomats and such coming through here, from every single Geode out there and more besides. Everyone wants to turn Ar’Kendrithyst back into a true land of light so that the Darkness can’t vacillate toward insanity and take it back in a storm of pique.”

In that moment, Erick made a mental check to hold off on offering to plant Yggdrasil at the former Brightwater. Such a thought had been on the back burner, but now, Erick wanted people to come through here and see that this land was good, and so if the diplomats of the wrought were going to come through here, then Erick would welcome them with open arms, and send them on their way, back out of his influence.

But while they were here, those wrought diplomats and such will briefly be living alongside dragons and the people of Ar’Cosmos, and shadelings, and even Shades, for Goldie was probably around here somewhere. Hopefully, Erick could maintain peace, and with that peace, there would come actual healing. Not this year, no. But eventually.

Eventually.

... And Sitnakov’s ideas of proper meeting protocol gave him an idea to speed that process up.

Erick asked, “You want an arena space, for sparring? Some place to have some rules and some fights that don’t end in too much bloodshed?”

Sitnakov brightened—

And then he instantly tempered himself. “Not yet. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“It’d be hard to trust all the various people coming here to have a good, clean fight; I agree. But I can put up various defenses. You’d be able to break those defenses, of course, but I’m sure that if everyone abides by a good, clean fight, then that is what we will have.”

Sitnakov leveled a look at Erick. “You know that’s fucking weird, right? Reading me like that, without any Mind Magic at all?”

“So I’ve been told.” Erick moved along, saying, “My daughter is a great fighter, and I’m pretty sure she would like to fight you.” Erick glanced backward to Jane, showing that he was visibly paying attention to her, though he had already been doing so all this while. Jane’s eyes were wide at her father’s look, and then she nodded experimentally; that was good, for she wanted a fight, too. And then Erick saw Teressa see Jane, and Erick, and realize what was being offered. She wanted in, too. Erick happily turned back to Sitnakov, who was currently a bit flustered and excited, and yet wary. Erick said, “Jane and Teressa would like to fight. Could be fun! I, however, am not up for that sort of thing.”

Brightly, yet with decorum, Sitnakov tried to play it cool as he said, “Yeah. That could be fun. Maybe I will take an arena space... A small one—”

All this while, there had been construction going on with the wrought lands. Stone crashed inside the barracks, and inside the offices. O’Lark went from building to building, ranting about the placement of doors and the flow of rooms, and the lack of windows. He did have some magical ability, and he used that to tear out the most egregious of offenses, such as single-load bearing walls, which, if torn down, would collapse the entire floor above.

This had happened several times already.

But now there was a problem with the roof of the barracks, which had been angled improperly for rain, and which had no gutters or any water removal systems at all.

Erick watched as several things rapidly happened. O’Lark tore out a support structure on the top floor. The roof began to collapse. O’Lark shouted about how he was right, and see? It was collapsing exactly as he predicted. And then his assistants grabbed the old green copper man and pulled him out of the collapsing debris, and right out a window.

The assistants gradually floated back down to the ground, holding a ranting and vindicated O’Lark, while the barracks and the office building began to fully collapse in a chain reaction of upper floors crashing downward.

It was a quick collapse, all together, taking about 20-ish seconds to complete. A large cloud of dust billowed outward at the destruction, partially occluding sight. Erick [Airshape]d the dust away before it reached his party, while the wrought caught in the cloud, near the collapse, didn’t seem to care at all about the dust at all. There wasn’t much to care about, anyway; this wasn’t a modern high rise like in New York City, or anything like that. It was a trio of small buildings, each between three and four stories tall, made just yesterday, and wholly made of stone.

Before O’Lark’s assistants had even set him back on the ground, outside of the collapse, the old man was already happily shouting, “And now we can build it right!” And then he was back on the ground, and he looked at the ground. “OH! Where’s that apprentice promised to me! She does good work and I want her here!”

Sitnakov stopped Erick from speaking up, saying to Erick, “Your apprentice doesn’t need to get involved if you don’t want to, for we have a Stone Mage. They can build it back to O’Lark’s specifications.”

Erick raised his head a little, then glanced toward Kiri. “You want to go?”

Kiri was torn. Loyalty to her teacher, or the chance to meet some important people? She’d probably be meeting important people either way, but if she stuck by Erick, then she might learn some magic, too. And yet, if she went with O’Lark, then she might learn building techniques from a master.

Erick added, “I’m probably going to be in meetings the rest of the day. No magic.”

Kiri decided, “I shall assist Architect O’Lark.”

And then she went.

Sitnakov snorted.

“Let him know I need an Interfaith Church, too,” Erick said.

Kiri briefly turned and waved in acknowledgment as she continued on toward O’Lark, while Sunny fluttered in the air here and there, flicking different colors. One rainbow Sunny descended onto Kiri’s shoulders, and wrapped around her neck, briefly flickering dark, blood red—

Paranoia.

Or true fears.

Erick’s chest felt tight as his heart beat hard. For one still moment, he couldn’t breathe.

Erick saw that red [Familiar] and imagined Kiri’s head being snapped off by some invisible assassin. He kept it together, though, rapidly reviewing his memories and checking the recent manasphere, and yes, Kiri’s Sunny had turned red, but nothing untoward had happened. This wasn’t some sort of attack, nor was this a marker of something yet to come.

With his emotions crushed down so far only Poi could pick up on them, Erick casually asked Jane, “Could you stay with her? Make sure you both stay safe? I really am going to be in meetings all the rest of the day, if I can help it.”

Jane glanced up at Sitnakov briefly, before nodding, saying, “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

Erick calmed himself, still trying to get the idea of Kiri’s head snapping away out of his mind, as he went to work on preventing a different sort of problem, “If you two decide to spar later, use a spotter. No injuries, please. But stay with Kiri while she’s working.”

Jane said, “Yeah sure, dad. I get it.”

And she did, actually.

Sitnakov was a bit slower on the uptake.

Sitnakov smiled wide. “I’m sure we can find some time to have a friendly match—” And then he paused and deflated. “Ah. But fun should come later.” He said to Erick, “I do desire to be an actual guard for you while we’re in this period of turmoil. I said that before but I had nearly forgotten. May I join you in your meetings?”

Jane waved to her father as she walked toward Kiri, saying, “See you later, dad.”

“See you later.” Erick looked to Sitnakov, adding, “Let’s go talk to Candlepoint, then.”

Sitnakov stood tall, and nodded.

Without further ado, Erick opened a lightning portal to the main street of Candlepoint, and led the way. Sitnakov, Teressa, and Poi followed.

During the transition, Teressa whispered to Sitnakov, “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I look forward to the chance to also punch your face, whenever I can.”

Sitnakov chuckled as he stepped through the portal. “Now that’s a much more normal way to make friends!” He said to Teressa, “I heard you were a good Prognosticator, so maybe your tiny arms might actually be able to reach me!”

Teressa’s arms were anything but tiny.

“Oh! They can reach alright!”

Erick did not understand that at all—

Well. No. He could understand that. Jane and Teressa were battle junkies, but they both wanted to punch Sitnakov in the face, at least, for what he had done to him. Erick was touched by that. But they held no illusions about actually being able to win in a fight against the prince.

Mostly, though, they were battle junkies. All of them.

But they were at Candlepoint now and Poi leveled a Look at the two of them. The orcol-shaped man and the actual-orcol woman both grinned at the small sapphire man, showing off their large lower fangs, and then said no more.

Within a minute Erick found himself in another meeting.