Chapter 228, 1/2

Chapter 228, 1/2

The end of the year was close. Two more days and Shadow’s Feast would be upon Veird.

Erick didn’t experience any disasters and he didn’t expect to go to the party, either. He was on another task given to him by Atunir just yesterday. He would drop his current plans and go back to Candlepoint if they asked him to come back, or if he was needed, but Fallopolis’s party was a small one this year and Kiri was doing fine and House Benevolence was getting along swimmingly without Erick.

They would be fine losing Poi for a week or three, too.

“Thanks for coming, Poi,” Erick said, as he sat down in the pub-carriage, jockeying for a seat at the front of the public transport.

Poi sat down beside Erick and held onto the railing. “Of course I would come with you. I didn’t expect that I would need to make myself Unknowable this early, though.”

Erick smirked. “A few people are still looking your way.”

A good thirty more people found their spots on the pub-carriage. A few of them gave Poi a side-eye, looking over the sapphire-scale dragonkin like he was both an oddity and a slight annoyance. Aside from Poi, everyone else on the pub-carriage was human, for the Greensoil Republic was rather bad about inclusion. And so, Poi had needed to begin using his [Don’t Notice Me] aura almost right after stepping through the Gate to Greensoil. Erick had, of course, taken on an entirely different Familiar Form because everyone would notice him right away. Ophiel had enjoyed a few days being visible upon his father’s shoulder, but he was back to being invisible and intangible.

It wasn’t that bad of an experience for the little guy, for all the rest of his bodies were all off doing their own things, as Ophiel desired.

Poi said, “I’ll turn up the Unknowable when we get closer, but we’re safe to talk openly right now. No one will remember our words.”

Erick smiled at that. “I’ll clean up the manasphere, too. Ahh. I don’t know how you do it all the time, Poi. Talking in your head. Seems like you’d have too many thoughts all the time, vying to be expressed.”

“There is a certain order that comes about when people filter from brain to mouth, but using the mind to communicate directly is rather normal for me.” Poi looked around as the pub-carriage filled up, saying, “What’s not normal is all these humans.”

“It's a pretty singular species up in here, isn’t it.”

Erick and Poi had come to Greensoil through the Gate Network, and there were lots of other races who used that very same Network, but this particular pub-carriage was not headed to the dragonkin side of town, or the very small shifter communities that butted up against the dragonkin. This pub-carriage was headed toward the high-class district, toward the kingdom center and, for Erick and Poi’s purposes, the Grand Courthouse of Legality, here in this capital city of Greendale, on the southeastern coast of the Republic.

And Greensoil didn’t allow non-humans to hold high office, so the pub-carriage was rather filled with humans... And Poi, who seemed to be making himself more and more [Don’t Notice Me] as the moments ticked on, and the bus-like hover-tram filled.

Erick was still human-shaped, but he had adopted a different sort of body than his usual one. Just a different face and a bit lankier, with brown hair instead of black. It was more than enough to hide in plain sight. Poi was not willing to change himself into a different Familiar Form in order to make life easier for him, or for others; he liked himself just fine, thank you very much! So his aura was how he handled the problem of fame. Such an aura was easily seen through by other Mind Mages, but that was fine; Mind Mages policed their own, and Poi was in good standing with the community. He could do this sort of thing without ethical worry.

“I’ll drop it when we get to the courthouse or to whoever we need to get to,” Poi said, “Just like you will with your form, right?” He said the last word a bit strongly.

Erick chuckled. “I just want to see Greensoil through a normal person’s eyes for a while. I’ll drop the act soon enough. And if it gets to be too much for you, you can go back home.”

Poi sighed in relief. “I am content to be looked at like a bug for a little while, but not for three weeks.

“Let me know if anyone tries to fuck with you too much and I’ll fuck with them right back.”

A smile broke across Poi’s face, shadows vanishing a little as he chuckled. “Thank you.”

The doors to the pub-carriage closed with a clang, locking the people inside. Most stood in the center of the vehicle, holding onto rails on the ceiling, or onto bars stretching up, while all the seats were full. The conductor at the front honked a horn, and then engaged the vehicle. With a sudden lurch, the pub-carriage started on down station, gliding along on its rails toward the exit of the Gatehouse.

Erick glanced out the window and watched as another pub-carriage flowed into the docking station that they had exited. A lot of dragonkin boarded that one; a sign hanging off the front of it read ‘Dragalley’, the name for the dragonkin part of town. That pub-carriage itself was almost as nice as the one Erick and Poi were currently riding, but it had obviously seen better days. The metal ribbing was tarnished. The wardlights at the front flickered because there was some sort of power coupling break in the internals. It didn’t seem to have a working [Air Conditioning Ward], either, for some bizarre reason.

As Erick noticed that, he noticed a lot more small, systemic problems of inequality here and there. From the quality of clothes, to the way the human drivers of the dragonkin pub-carriage looked at their passengers... It all painted a rather clear picture.

Erick’s own pub-carriage was going rather slow right now, following its tracks to the end of the station. It would pick up speed soon enough.

Erick said to Poi, “Kiri still hates this place but she’s good about not showing it anymore.”

“Greendale is the worst. All the other major cities are pretty bad, but the countryside is okay. Odaali is making good advancements... It was making really good advancements before the Halls of the Dead killed a third of the people in their Daydropper attack. That action set them back a decade.”

“I still remember when Valok and all the other dragonkin and other migrant workers from Greensoil decided to stay at Spur as soon as we made Spur a full-year breadbasket.”

“You did that,” Poi said, “I merely kept people from trying to knife you in the street for your riches.”

“That wasn’t too often, was it?”

“More often than you know. Most archmages stay holed-up in their towers or hidden from the world for very good reasons.” Poi deadpanned, “I was expecting to work for a half-way hermit.”

With a smile, Erick said, “I’m glad I never became a hermit.”

“Aye; me, too.”

The pub-carriage followed its glowing lines of power off of the Gatehouse station and into the air, finally detaching from the ground, to to ride its lines of power out over the city.

Erick had once thought of making a monorail over at Candlepoint, but Candlepoint had ended up more with a subway system than an over-city monorail. Candlepoint’s over-air rail system was still active in a few places, but mostly it was underground.

Greensoil had copied Candlepoint’s transport, but they put everything in the air, probably because their underground was all filled with private properties. Instead of using actual trains, like Candlepoint, Greensoil used these big bus-like ‘carriages’ that each held about 50 people. Erick felt trains had been a better choice there, too.

But then again, Greendale was a major city of Greensoil with a population in the millions, while Candlepoint and the nearby suburbs had a lot more than that; they needed a lot more quantity than Greendale. Population numbers varied, but last year, counting all of the cities inside the hundred-kilometer ring Kiri had made eleven years ago, ‘Candlepoint’ (and Weald and Gambler’s Rest and Torchlight and all the rest) came in at just under 20 million people.

Erick looked out at the city, at the rooftops. Or at least at the rooftops he could see. A lot of the buildings around here were tall things of stone and glass, reaching several stories into the air. Cultivated trees lined the roads and the pub-carriage flew above those. Greenery rushed past underneath as the vehicle flew forward, following its path into the heart of Greendale, sitting in the distance.

The capital kingdom of Greensoil looked like a pile of differently-shaped and nicely decorated bricks sitting on the horizon. It’d take twenty minutes for the pub-carriage to get there, with the pub-carriage making several stops at the outlying areas along the way.

Greendale’s transit system was slower than Candlepoint’s, but the views were nice.

As Erick looked out the window, he recalled trying to make a Gate Network connection directly between the human-ran Greensoil and the incani-controlled Wastelands a few years ago. For a while, everything was looking great. Fantastic, even! Some of the younger people had even started talking about how the Quiet War might actually end, but then there were Quiet War problems. Some pretty bad and rather suspicious dungeon breaks ended in the complete deterioration of relations between the Republic and the Kingdoms, and so that particular Gate Network connection had come down. Now it took twenty minutes to make it into the city proper. Back then, the Gatehouse had been a lot closer to the city, too, but nowadays one had to take the pub-carriage in from this location 20 minutes away, and there were two pub-carriage systems; one outer-city, like the one Erick and Poi were on now, and one inner-city, which was heavily restricted.

Non-humans weren’t allowed on the inner-city pub-carriages without going through a much more intense scanner than the normal one.

Which was extra-shitty of them—

Poi added, “If you wanted to see how bad it was for non-humans, you could have been one for a while.”

Erick sarcastically said, “But Poi, I’m already doing the non-human thing.”

“Ha ha,” Poi deadpanned.

“Maybe I will, then? Maybe a shadeling?”

“Ah. So you want to be killed on sight.”

Erick winced. “This trip is going to be a whole big thing, isn’t it.”

“Yes, it will. I might not stick around if we have to stay in Greendale too long, but I doubt we will. At least Teressa and Aisha haven’t seen anything extra on the Sky— Except for the storm approaching Storm’s Edge, that is.” Poi said, “With any luck, this trip will go exactly as Atunir asked it to go.”

Erick had only found out about Atunir’s request last night...

- - - -

Erick woke standing in a field of wheat, ripe for harvesting, golden grains weighing down thick stalks, a warm breeze barely jostling the grains at all. The sky was gold and mountainous clouds in the distance cast platinum rain upon orchards and vegetable gardens and pastures. Cows mooed in contentment as their tails flicked back and forth in joy; there was no need to flick away flies but they still wagged their tails, here, in Atunir’s heaven.

“Hello, Erick,” Atunir said, appearing from the corner of Erick’s perception like she had always been there. “Congratulations with Storm’s Edge. That went well.”

The Goddess of Field and Fertility was a dark-skinned human woman with bright amber eyes and long braided hair. Her clothes were the simple sort anyone would wear for harvesting. Erick’s own outfit mirrored hers, here in this place outside of time.

“Thank you, Atunir.” Erick said, “I hope that whatever you would have me do would go similarly well.”

“There’s little need for subterfuge with my request as there was for Sininindi at Storm’s Edge.” Atunir said, “But before we get into that... I want us to be friendlier with each other. Like with you and Phagar, or you and Rozeta or Koyabez, or even... With Melemizargo.”

Well that was surprising.

Erick wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.

She said Melemizargo’s name with restraint but she still said it, because yes, Erick was not close to Atunir at all. Her Champion, Yetta Wheat, had lived and worked in Candlepoint for a few years, but she had moved on back to Odaali several years ago, because the King of Odaali, her former adventuring buddy and childhood friend, Cyril, had asked for her hand in marriage. Apparently the two of them had become more than friends when no one else was looking. Aside from the brief contact Erick had had with Yetta before she moved on, Erick hadn’t really worked together with Atunir on anything at all... Except for the [Exalted Rain] spell, and then only to gift that to Atunir and also the world.

That spell was still used to this day, all over the world, to [Grow] food for almost every major city on the planet.

Thoughts of all of that stuff swirled in Erick’s head as he tried to understand Atunir’s goal.

“... I thought we were...” Erick wasn’t sure what to say except the truth. “I guess we’re not that close, eh? I mean...” Erick asked, “Do you want to come to this years Triumph of Light, at Candlepoint?”

Atunir smiled gently. “Thank you for the offer, but that’s not really what I mean. I mean ‘close’ as in someone you come to, to help solve problems. Every day I wonder how things would have been if you had held fast to being a farmer, to growing food for people instead of managing them. I wonder how much I would have given you, because I want to give you everything, Erick. I want to give you everything you could ever want, partially because you deserve it, and partially because I know you wouldn’t abuse any power I gave you.”

Erick felt more flattered than he had in a long time. And yet... “I suppose... Not to be too blunt, but I suppose I never looked your way because... Field and Fertility. It’s not exactly something I worship.”

Atunir chuckled. “I suppose I’m not the most martial of gods, and I care nothing for borders or governments, but individually, I would help. My worship includes the entire world, on all sides of the Quiet War and every other war besides. Every farmer who has ever plucked a ripe tomato or gathered gourds at the end of fall, or butchered a prized cow, falls under my guidance. If you had asked for me, Erick, I would have given you paladins of the harvest. They’re very good at reaping lives, in addition to grain. I would be your major god, if you would have me.”

Erick wasn’t quite sure what to say of that, so he said, “I have greatly appreciated your blessings on the fields of Candlepoint, and for Yetta’s help for all those years.”

“You’ve given the world a lot. Chocolate. [Renew]. [Exalted Rain]. Potatoes, Erick, potatoes. You deserve more than you have been given. I know you already have a plethora of godly connections, but ask for my help sometimes, and you’ll get it.”

Erick had no idea that Atunir felt this way. “I will, then, if something comes up, I will ask. Thank you.”

“Good. I know you will.” Atunir said, “But I know you did not expect any of that, so I don’t expect any answers on that front at the moment. Let us move on to the release of my part of Yggdrasil’s seal.”

Erick nodded. He was prepared.

“By your completion of two small tasks, I can release my part of that seal. The two tasks I have in mind are nothing that difficult. One you should be able to take care of in a day, if you wish it to be done that quickly, and the other might take a little while longer, depending on how deep you want to go with it. I, for one, hope you go all the way with the second task, for I and my people have been working on it for a long time.

“The first task is to travel to Greendale in the Greensoil Republic, and to finally end this open Kill and Exterminate Quest, by completion of the final part of that Quest, the only part which has been allowed to exist for the last 13 years. The problem of Denutha Odaari; the last person of the three people who created the Daydropper Vine and almost killed the world.

“This task is solved either by her death, or by her true repentance through a [Reincarnation] and a [Blessing of Empathy]. Either is fine. Some people are even calling for justice of a sort. If she gets her day in court, and there is a solid outcome, then I will be fine with that, too.

“What I am not actually fine with is how the Viridian King has locked her up in a cage since her voluntary surrender to the Green Circle all those years ago.

“End her imprisonment one way or another.”

Erick tried to recall what he knew of that situation. “I heard that they didn’t carry out her trial because the completion of that Kill and Exterminate Quest would have granted me 10 points?” It never bothered him that those points had been denied to him because that reward hinged on the death of Odaari, who was some sort of cousin to Cyril Odaali, who was now the king of that major city of Odaali. Back then he had been the crowned prince... “I always suspected that they didn’t kill Denutha because of some political reasons— Political beyond me, I mean.”

“It’s a mess, Erick. I would have you carve through it and end the mess one way or the other. If you choose to see justice done then this first task might take a while, with you doing much of nothing while you wait for bureaucracy to act. If that is fine with you and Yggdrasil, then that is fine with me. But since I suspect that you will want to have some sort of justice happen...” Atunir moved on, “This brings us to the second task.” With a delighted-yet-hiding-it voice, Atunir said, “There is a Grand Dungeon at Greensoil located an hour north of Greendale by pub-carriage.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

“That dungeon has an implementation of a Script-like magical interface that I officially present to you as an alternative to a Script in whatever next worlds may come.” Atunir said, “I would have you delve that dungeon, and I would have you tell me what you think. I suggest you go in wearing a different form other than your own, otherwise people might get too excited and they’ll try to show it off instead of allowing you to experience it for yourself. Perhaps bring another person with you? That is of no matter to me. I just want you to see the dungeon for yourself.”

“... Huh. Okay.” Erick asked, “The Gem Dungeon, yes?”

One of the Grand Dungeons of the world, and one of the very few that Quilatalap had had absolutely nothing to do with, because Atunir honestly did not like the man (thinking about that, maybe Atunir was only approaching Erick like this because Quilatalap was out of the picture for the next few years (dammit, Erick missed that big guy already)), the Gem Dungeon was one of the few dungeons that truly went all-in on making a replacement for the Script. Most of the few places that tried for a Second Script did not actually have a Second Script; they adjusted the current Script and put forth those adjustments as ‘better’ than the current system.

Most places, though, actually didn’t try to make anything approaching the complexity of a Script at all; they just imposed restrictions on delvers. That was what the dungeon at Storm’s Edge had done, before this past week.

Atunir announced, “That’s the one! Our wonderful Gem Dungeon!”

“I would love to see what you envision for the Script.”

Atunir started gushing, “My system might even work on worlds without a true Script shield at all! It’s all very low-manatech, too, and reminiscent of the Old Cosmology where the mana waned thin—” She cut herself off. “Anyway. We’re very proud of the Second Script we’ve come up with. It’s different from what you’re used to, but... It might work out really well. Our ideas —if implemented well— should cut down Yggdrasil’s seeds maturation time from decades to years, because the necessary starter mana would be so much less than what is needed now to make a Script. We could transform barren rocks into worlds for people as fast as Yggdrasil wishes to make seeds!”

Erick appreciated her enthusiasm, but... “Hopefully Yggdrasil won’t be a dad for 90 more years.”

“Right right.” Atunir said, “I can help with that restriction, too, once you get the seal removed. Denying Fertility is very much within my church of cause, Erick. You might not even need to do Wizardry yourself to keep that seal intact if Yggdrasil directly agrees to my denial of his Fertility, but then again, that would be putting the power of a World Tree into my hands, and I don’t think I want that responsibility. But it’s a thought, anyway.”

“... Huh. Well okay.”

Atunir grinned. “See you later, Erick. I hope you enjoy Greensoil.”

- - - -

“Back on Earth,” Erick began, as the pub-carriage glided along its node network railing in the sky, with nary a bump in the transit, “There were political dissidents that never got their days in court, so I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised that people would do the same thing here on Veird.”

“They like to use her as a bargaining chip with you, more than they care about her personal needs.”

“I believe I told them to let her have her day in court so she could explain herself and the Daydropper as she wished to do for all these years. And then I left... And I never followed up on that.” Erick said, “Surely there’s no ‘great big secret’ that she has on Greensoil that hasn’t been said already?”

“It’s probably not that. I’m rather sure they don’t want to bring up the Quiet War and the Decimation of Odaali, because they’re trying not to have all-out war with the Wasteland.”

“Ahh, yes. That makes some sort of sense.”

“But now you’re here to force the issue,” said Destiny, the Wizard of Chaos.

Erick furrowed his brow. “She never... She purposefully never brought that up around me, did she?”

“Correct. It’d probably be better if you pretended you never heard me tell you about it, too. She’s trying to solve that for herself, not unlike how your actual daughter tries to live.”

Now it was Erick’s turn to sigh. He looked out at the window, at all the peaceful farmland, and said, “You know... Jane once called this place ‘feudal Europe medieval-style’. It’d be kinda nice to pretend it was just that, but that’d be pretending.”

“At least the Viridian King apologized for trying to assassinate you that one time.”

“Things would have been a lot different if Jane hadn’t caught that Green Circle assassin parasitizing the food...”

Erick thoughts drifted...

“Thinking about what the Dark said about you Establishing your own past?” Poi asked.

“Somewhat. I’m trying not to let it affect me, but...” Erick said, “So the gods live in a land that is beyond time, being both here and there at the same time— Perhaps I would have called them 4th dimensional beings back on Earth. That seems too simple, though. Anyway. Gods have a lot of power to move back and forth through time, perhaps none more so than Phagar —who never talks about it— and he said that even gods are fallible when it comes to Wizards. Melemizargo, who does talk about it, told me about this [Onward] and... I guess I never considered that I could mess up a spell that badly. That’s what’s really bothering me.”

“Perhaps you should change your perspective, if for no other reason than to alleviate your mind of this burden.” Poi said, “If Melemizargo is correct, then that means you gifted the world eleven years of peace. That doesn’t seem like you messed up at all, Erick. That seems like you sacrificed yourself in order to make this all work.” Poi shrugged. “Which is just like you.”

Erick felt a tension leave him and his shoulders sag. But he wasn’t quite ready to accept Poi’s charitable interpretation yet, because he didn’t like how, if Melemizargo had been right, then that meant that Erick hadn't actually been here for the last eleven years.

That would have been a cruel thing to do to his loved ones. That would have been like putting a repro down in his place, and then coming back to reap the repro’s work, and to take his life back, and that was itself a huge mess of moral issues.

Poi said, “That’s an unfair comparison, too. You were yourself this whole time. If anything, you were just lost to the flow— Erick. I certainly didn’t feel like you weren’t here. You were here, this whole time.”

“... Aye. Maybe I was.”

“You were.”

Maybe...

Erick’s thoughts drifted off into a hundred different tangents as he considered what he knew.

Poi fell silent, and soon, he was telepathically connecting with people outside of the pub-carriage; always working, he was, even when he wasn’t.

The pub-carriage soon rolled into the station at central Greendale, the capital city of the Greensoil Republic, and though it was beautiful, Erick’s thoughts were still turned inward—

Until Poi said, “Look lively. Seems we didn’t manage to get through the other station without tripping some sort of alarm.”

Erick scowled a little as the doors opened and people began to filter outward, into the grand central station. Under a monumental housing of glass and steel and spellwork, thousands of pub-carriages went back and forth all the time, on tens of different landings, to the outlying areas of Greendale, and also around the city itself. Erick would have enjoyed the architecture if it weren’t for the people standing on the platform, beyond his pub-carriage.

A trio of people in dark green official dress armor, which was mostly just a breastplate and fabrics, stood waiting on the landing beyond, their eyes going over every person exiting the pub-carriage. Two men, one woman. And then all three of them looked at Erick, but not at Poi.

Perhaps it was time to end this charade. Erick would have preferred somewhere less public, but that was fine. If these people were going to start shit with him, he was going to finish it, but he would be polite first.

Poi left the pub-carriage first, and waited to the side... Ah? So he was Unnoticeable, now? Right. He was playing along with Erick’s desire to see the world as a normal person, but that didn’t mean he was willing to sacrifice his own safety, and these people would surely notice who Poi was as soon as he dropped his aura.

Erick didn’t blame Poi for any of those decisions. Erick hated corrupt governments himself —always had, always will— which is why he tried to make Candlepoint as egalitarian and open and lawful as possible.

Erick confidently strode forward, to stand before the inquisitors. “Hello?”

The shorter male inquisitor gave half a nod to his compatriots.

The tallest inquisitor narrowed his eyes at Erick. “It’s not illegal to have Domains, but you are required to register them, and to not use them in public.”

Erick pulled out his Dungeon Guild badge he kept around his neck, and then let it hang on his chest. “Ashes Woodfield. I am a registered, 9-Star delver and adventurer both, in good standing with the major Guilds, and you’re lying, officer. According to the Treaty of Oceanside however long ago it was, of which Greensoil was a signer, I can use my Domains internally as much as I want, wherever I go. Which is what I was doing. Can I help you more than that?”

The tall man scowled—

The shorter inquisitor sent a telepathic message to the larger guy, which Erick was only able to understand because the shorter guy wasn’t very good about hiding the microexpressions of his throat and tongue. ‘Just checked his Dungeon Guild tag. He has a registered Domain but we’ll need clearance to get any more information other than that.’

The woman inquisitor was a bit better about keeping her mouth and throat in control as she sent her messages, but Erick was able to ‘read’ those, too. ‘His Water Domain is active. We’re looking for a Benevolence Domain. It was here, but now it’s gone.’

The lead inquisitor didn’t like ‘Ashes’ tone, though, so he said, “It might be legal to walk around with an internal Domain, but it’s not legal to erase your presence wherever you go. There’s a big line of blank from where you stepped off the Gate, all the way to here and now.”

“Ah. Trying to intimidate me, eh? That’s not going to work either because there is no law against erasing my own manasphere presence. Greensoil has tried to implement that law many, many times, but it fails to pass the house of lords every time. No law against humans erasing their manasphere, anyway. Not so true for everyone else.”

The woman inquisitor sighed, as she sent to her superior, ‘He knows the law and is a 9 star and all the [Scan]s return ‘human’. We have to move faster than we are moving.’

The lead inquisitor frowned, then stared at Erick and took a chance, “Are you The Wizard?”

After a surreal moment, Erick balked, then laughed loud. “What-the-fu—! Ha!” And then he pretended to falter a little bit. “... Why? Is he around here?”

Several nearby people were already interested in the conversation happening between the inquisitors and the strange man on the landing platform, but at the words ‘The Wizard’, a few moved closer to hear better. At Erick’s laughter, and at his own question, the nearby public got a lot more interested. They started looking around—

The smaller male inquisitor shook his head. The woman mouthed that this was a dead end, and they needed to move faster.

The lead inquisitor softly asked, “Have you seen anything weird?”

“I don’t snitch to guards who are abusing their authority.”

Erick almost said more, but the inquisitors had perked up as the smaller man telepathically told the other two that there was ‘contact with strangeness’ a few kilometers down the line from the Gatehouse. Two of the inquisitors wanted to move on the new contact right now—

But the lead inquisitor glared at Erick, saying, “We’re too close to Shadow’s Feast for this sort of shit. If I catch you flouting the law again then I’ll do a lot worse than ask you questions.”

And then the inquisitors rushed away, down and out of the station, onto a [Force Platform] to then fly away down south. Back toward where Destiny was. They’d never catch her, though; Erick was the only one who could.

Erick watched them go for a little bit, feeling kinda miffed. Maybe even angry.

And then he turned and walked into the station. Since the confrontation was over, everyone else who had been watching also got a hurried move on; everyone had places to be, and they had to be there as soon as possible!

Poi walked along with Erick, sending, ‘Sorry about not including you in the [Don’t Know Me].’

Erick smiled. ‘So that’s what it’s called! [Don’t Know Me]!’ He added, ‘And yeah, I know. You explained it to me already. You’re only allowed to protect yourself and other Mind Mages while going about normal duties, but since I’m not a Mind Mage... Yeah.’

Poi smirked, as he sent, ‘They made that law with people like you in mind— Well. You and Headmaster Kirginatharp. And since we’re going to be engaging with the law soon...’

‘Yup yup. Don’t want to make enemies before we get to the courthouse. If only everyone were as lawful as you, Poi, this world would be a lot better.’ Erick almost scowled, but he had more than enough control to keep his face completely normal, because some people were watching him. ‘That inquisitor was a complete asshole, trying to throw his weight around like that.’

Poi chuckled. ‘That’s how all the inquisitors are.’

‘You know? I wonder how much they’ll tell ‘Ashes’ about Denutha.’

‘Oh gods, Erick. Don’t tell me you’re going to go that far with this.’

‘Well... Yes. You’re probably right; this shouldn’t go much further than it already has. But also: I became a social worker because I wanted to help people, and that is why I decided to become the Apparent King, too. That desire has formed the foundation of everything I do. But Phagar and my time at Storm’s Edge helped to remind me that there are just some things you can’t see as king, so high above everyone else; some things you can only see at ground level. This little issue here has reinforced an old hatred of mine; a hatred against tyranny.’ Erick said, ‘So I’m going to push this for a little while. ‘Give them enough rope to hang themselves with’, you know.’

‘How about you push it until we get to the courthouse. ‘Ashes Woodfield’ won’t survive true contact with Greendale. That persona is probably already coming apart at the book binding, somewhere in their bureaucracy of this city.’

Erick shrugged. ‘Probably.’

Poi rolled his eyes, then sent, ‘Who do you even expect to see at the courthouse? A clerk, or something? Anyone who will listen to ‘Ashes’?’

‘If I knew I would tell you, but I don’t know, and that’s half the fun!’

Poi gave Erick a Look.

Erick almost chuckled, but he was being watched now.

- - - -

“Sorry, sir...” The clerk was confused. “You wish to know the status of Denutha Odaari’s trial?”

“That is correct.” Erick lied, “I’m doing some research for a history of The Wizard, and it came up that Denutha Odaari, of the Kill and Exterminate Quest for the Daydropper Vine, is still alive and in custody of Greendale, awaiting trial. It’s why I came out here. You know... Poke around, ask questions. That sort of thing.”

Finding the Grand Courthouse of Legality had been easy, for it was a great big building in white stone in the center-ish of the city, and the signage leading there could not have been clearer.

This place was not the courthouse, though. This place was two streets over, nearly two kilometers away from the courthouse, and was the third place in Erick’s quest to find out about Denutha Odaari without having to reveal himself as The Wizard.

The lie gracing Erick’s tongue had developed over a few different interactions, and was now rather perfect, in his opinion. He doubted this ruse would last very long at all, and he would drop the act as soon as his cover was truly challenged, but he wanted to see what Greensoil would do to him for asking these big sorts of questions. So far, there were some bored guards watching him from several blocks away with their mana sense, while everyone Erick actually interacted with was giving him the runaround. It was not quite how Erick had expected this to go, but in hindsight, of course they would give him the runaround.

He had time to kill, though. There were no official delve slots at the Gem Dungeon; any time he showed up there he would be allowed in. It wasn’t a very popular dungeon, even if it was one of the Grand Dungeons of the Surface.

And so, Erick was here, asking questions.

Poi waited outside, though, because of the ‘no non-human’ signs posted here and there. He could have walked past them and broken that stupid law, just as Erick had, for he was non-human too, but Poi didn’t want to break the law like that.

The clerk behind the counter eyed Erick. “... I see.”

Erick said, “No real rush on it. I got time.”

The clerk decided, “You need to go to the Grand Courthouse of Legality. This is the historical records building, and—”

“Don’t do that,” Erick said, smiling. “At the courthouse, they told me to go downstairs to the records office. The record house downstairs told me to go to the Knowledge Mage they keep employed for these sorts of questions across the street, at the other records house. The Knowledge Mage said he had nothing on my question, so he sent me here, to this historical records building, ‘The Archives’, and that’s you. And I’m like, the only person here, and have been the only person in line for the last few hours. You were reading a book before I came in here. I already went around and you’re the person to talk to about this; don’t try to send me anywhere else.”

The clerk put on her most professional stonewalling face, and said, “I am sorry, sir, but this is not the place to request information of that nature. You want current records, since I believe Denutha Odaari’s case is still in the courts. Or, you could go directly to the proper place to ask these sorts of stupid, traitorous questions; Please consult the Royal Palace for information regarding traitors to the crown, who are still alive and in custody somewhere in that place.”

Erick went, “Ah ha! Now we got somewhere. So I have to go to the palace?”

“... Yes. Good luck with that.”

“Is that really all you can tell me?”

“Yes. Go away now.”

“The people at the courthouse [Force Wall]ing me I could understand.” Erick said, “Even the Knowledge Mage I could believe simply didn’t have that sort of knowledge on hand, though that was a stretch. And now here you are, with actual information, and you’re not willing to share. Makes me think that the Viridian Throne doesn’t want The Wizard to get those ten points he’s owed from that Kill and Exterminate Quest, which seems really petty to me—”

“Look. Idiot. This shit is above my pay, and probably above yours, too; whoever the fuck you think you are. Grand traitor court cases are always politics and I can’t help you with those. Go yell at the shadows.”

Erick ignored that last deep insult, like he ignored all the rest. “You’ve been helpful so far. Just tell me why you think they haven’t solved her case, and I’ll leave.”

The clerk sighed, then said, “Try the Odaali Embassy. Far as I know they’ve been calling for Odaari’s head for over a decade, yet the Viridian Throne keeps denying them for whatever reason.”

Erick let his surprise show on his face. “... I didn’t know Odaali was doing that.”

“It’s rather hush-hush, but that’s the rumor.”

Erick looked the clerk over. She was a skinny woman of black hair and pale features, maybe in her late forties. Erick said, “Thank you for your time, Miss...?”

“None of your business; I won’t have my name written up by inquisitors or in some idiot historian’s notes.”

Erick grinned. “I’ll stop pestering you, Miss Unnamed Knowledge Mage, if you tell me why you’re over here and that other Knowledge Mage is over at the records house instead of you. You seem a lot more capable.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The woman eyed Erick, and then the door. “Bye bye, now.”

Erick took the hint and walked away, smiling a little bit the whole time.

Outside the office, Poi asked, ‘Can we stop the subterfuge now?’

‘Yes.’ Erick sent, ‘Can’t very well go into the Odaali Embassy as ‘Ashes’, can I?’

Poi narrowed his eyes at Erick, for he could already hear—

Erick finished his thought, ‘Or can I?’

Poi gave Erick another Look. ‘I mean it, Erick. Shadow’s Feast is in two days and because of that, this level of security is a lot higher than usual. Higher than I expected it to be, and higher than you expected it to be. You’ve had your fun, and you’ve seen life on the ground, but it’s time to stop.’

‘Fine fine fine! It’s gonna be harder to approach the Gem Dungeon as myself, though. Atunir wants me to get the proper, on-the-ground experience there.’

‘... I suppose that is true.’