084, 1/2

Kal’Duresh was a white-walled mountain oasis in the orange lands of the Crystal Forest, with walls thirty meters tall. The city covered an area twice as large as Spur. One thing Erick liked about the place was that each building and tower and residence on that mountain enjoyed a view of the land beyond, instead of a view of their neighbors.

‘Kal’Duresh’ was also a castle up at the very top of the mountain made of white stone and tiers and twisting trees. It looked more like a work of airy art than a true residence, especially from Erick’s angle down in the gardens right in front of the Castle, while sunset painted it all in golds and reds.

Erick was currently in the stone gazebo, located in a garden with boxy rows of bushes that barely came up to his thigh. He had been here before, so it was a semi-comfortable location. Plum tea steamed up from cups in front of him, while Zago sat to his right, Poi stood just outside the stone gazebo, and Baroness Pirazel Xelxex, the bright magenta incani who basically owned all of Kal’Duresh, sat across from him, sipping her own plum tea. She wore a red wraparound dress, and red-stone jewelry on her uneven horns. If they were enchanted gems, they had leaked out their light long ago.

Thick air flickered here and there in the garden, and over the Castle, and everywhere else.

Introductions and pleasantries had already happened, as well as smaller talk of what Erick was going to do with his magic, exactly. Or rather, what Ophiel was going to do, before five of the [Familiar]s went and did it.

Five Ophiel had each conjured their own [Teleporting Platform], that they each wrapped in a low-grade [Prismatic Ward] to fill the whole of the hovering stone. With their Restful spots prepared, each Ophiel had taken their positions in the center of the platform, and began casting [Domain of the Withering Slime]. White spheres had sprung up around the winged [Familiar]s, smaller than the diameter of the platform.

Erick then sent those five Ophiel across the city, making sure that they got the whole place. After checking through each Ophiel to make sure the entire city was covered, Erick had conjured a sixth to fill in the occasional gap that appeared between Domains; Kal’Duresh was a large city, with an underground aspect to it that ate up a lot of Ophiel’s range, and besides, overlapping Domains was a good idea in a land of tangled stone and water.

Shadowolf notifications had poured in, like barely-there blue box raindrops. Erick mostly didn’t care about those notifications, though, so they stayed out of his sight while he waited for something unexpected to show.

While he waited for the unexpected, the pleasantries wound down, and an Ophiel passed overhead. The [Familiar] rode his platform like he was a miniature version of the planet Saturn, flying through the skies of Kal’Duresh, guiding a galaxy of thick air. That same air strummed with full-powered violin music flavored with guitar accents. It sounded… nice.

Or a certain version of ‘nice’, anyway.

Xelxex also watched the Ophiel fly overhead, barreling forward like he was the head of an illusionary tsunami. She sipped her plum tea. She continued with the pleasantries, “Your [Familiar] certainly does seem to be enjoying himself.” She paused to watch a pseudopod the size of a large apartment building swipe through the gardens around them with little more disturbance to the peace than a soft breeze. Her eyes went a little wide, as she looked to the sky again, but she controlled her reaction to almost nothing. As the thick air and violin-wind passed, she said, “Though that song is somewhat disconcerting.”

Erick said, “I can have him tone down his song. A lot of people don’t seem to like that.”

Xelxex shook her head the faintest, proper amount, saying, “Nonsense. I just mention it because it proves the depth of your commitment to your summons.” She smiled professionally, saying, “One would think you were a Summoner, and not the herald of some new magic that the world has never seen before.”

“I’ve always tried to treat him well.” Erick said, “I understand most people don’t do that.”

Xelxex said, “No. They do not. Usually they are nothing more than expendable troops, sent out to perish to the benefit of their casters.” She added, “I have never studied too deeply the summoner’s arts, but I have heard some say that any mannerisms witnessed are the simple nuances of a million small lessons taught to them as they are raised. But starting off with a good base is just as important.”

Erick smiled. He changed the topic away from Ophiel, saying, “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the rudeness of the imaging I used upon your city. I just did it, but I really should have gone through your proper channels. Sorry about that.”

“It was good to dispose of hunter trash, and we are all in the rough and tumble business of quick decisions and fast actions out here in the Crystal Forest, especially when attackers like the Red Dot mage are involved.” She got a stern look on her face, as she said, “But some magics are not—”

A notification appeared. Erick snapped his gaze toward the blue box.

 

 

Xelxex waited for Erick to speak, her pleasantness a mask upon her face.

Erick said, “Shadowcat A.”

Xelxex dropped the mask, revealing strictly contained rage. She halfway turned to the guard standing behind her, outside of the gazebo. She ordered, “Find it.”

Erick offered, “I might could find it, too, if you would care for another imaging of your city?” He added, “It won’t work underground, tho—” Two more shadowcat notifications popped out of the blue box rainstorm to the sides of Erick’s vision. “Two more shadowcats.”

“No.” Xelxex declared, “I don’t approve of blood magic. Not to put too fine a point on it, but if I ever find that spell near my lands again, I will press charges against both you and Spur. In the unlikely event of another Red Dot attack, and the ‘necessity’ of further imaging, I will still press charges.”

Erick paused, struck between asking ‘Who would oversee that lawsuit’ because the answer was ‘no one’, for there wasn’t an overarching government of the Crystal Forest that Erick knew of, and ‘What the heck? Blood magic?’ So he just drawled out, “Oookaay.”

Zago raised her eyebrows at Erick’s tone, but she said nothing. She had mostly gone silent after introductions. Erick held no illusions that Zago wasn’t in league with the Baroness in some long-term capacity, but Zago was still a part of Spur, first and foremost, according to everything Erick understood.

But Xelxex certainly made a point of noticing Erick’s long ‘okay’. She frowned at Erick, then paused, herself. She set her glass down, speaking with resigned understanding, “It’s not blood magic. You don’t know what souls are, either, so I suppose that makes a crude sort of sense.” She asked, “So what is your imaging, if not blood magic?”

He almost asked, ‘How do you know I don’t know about souls’ before the answer became obvious. She was the baroness of a major city. She had spies, of course. One of those spies might even be sitting right beside him, and named ‘Zago’. Erick did not look the guildmaster’s way, as he said, “All I know is that I have no idea what blood magic is, exactly.” He added, “So they’re probably not the same.”

Xelxex sipped her tea. Pleasantness returned to her voice, but only enough to cover the hard iron below, “In that case, I wish to formally hire you, to bring you over to the Kingdoms. To grant you a title of nobility and land, and win you over to the Wasteland.”

Without a second thought, Erick said, “No thank you. I won’t put myself in a position to choose a side in the Quiet War.”

“I will accept that answer in the short term, but in time, I think you will change your mind.”

“… I don’t think I will?”

What little comfortableness there was to the conversation, vanished, utterly and entirely.

“You will, and it will have very little to do with the Quiet War.” Her pleasant tone vanished, and out came the Baroness, in full. “Due to the arrival of Candlepoint, there’s going to be a real war in the Crystal Forest. Months off; maybe less. Not until we fully understand what they’re trying to accomplish. It will be a coalition of interested nations, and since Candlepoint is so near the Kingdoms, my people are going to be at the center of that war. Our nation will endure this storm and bring peace back to the Crystal Forest, but others will take the opportunity to weaken us however they are able. The Converter Angel might have already been summoned.”

Zago gasped, “Already?!”

“Where?” Erick asked, “How do you know?”

The Baroness said, “We haven’t even gotten direct confirmation, but there is a guildhouse in Candlepoint. There is even a questing board in there, overseen by enthusiastic shadelings. On that board are quests to kill all sorts of monsters. From wyrms, worth one darkchip, to unicorns and Ancient Stone Elementals to Toxic Hydras to Monster Mimics to Singing Colpers, worth three to eight chips, to the Converter Angel in question, worth 10 chips.” She said, “We believe they are true listings, because of an example already shown to be true.

“We haven’t had a single Singing Colper sighting in a decade. But yesterday, the listing was not there, and today it was, and the lake where they usually surface was suddenly disturbed by ten meter tall waves and a piercing wail that drove the investigators off. Hours later, the adventurers came in and killed the beast, netting themselves eight chips, and enough to buy one of those 5% Reduction Beads. That 5% bead is real, too, by the way.

“We think the Converter Angel is real, as well.

“In fact, we think almost everything on offer in that city is real, at the moment.

“And so, there will be a war, soon. Either with Candlepoint, or with the Greensoil Republic over control of that city.” The Baroness asked, “What would it take to convince you that being impartial in the face of the coming atrocity would be the wrong move? What would it take for you to choose to help and protect those who need protecting? Money and power are obviously not your wants, but if you wish to be left alone to help others, or granted a leadership position in the Magisterium, we are prepared to offer such, and much more.” She stressed, “Archmage Flatt. Erick. Our entire nation, over three million souls, is still trying to recover from the last time a Converter Angel was loosed upon our lands. We need your help.”

Erick did not expect his meeting with the Baroness to turn so heavy. Maybe he should have.

She continued, “I have more than enough power to assure you that you would never be used as a wartime asset. Defensive measures only. But if you are worried of being human in a land of incani, in a few years, you might be able to gain an incani [Polymorph] form in the natural, non-hunter way, of living with us, and experiencing the beauty of our land and our people.” She added, “But you have power, Archmage Flatt. Power never before seen—”

“In months, Particle Mage will be open in the Script. So will [Call Lightning], and [Exalted Storm Aura]. And [Withering]. You don’t need me. I am not going to be a part of your war.”

Zago said, “You assured me that you would be there to help against the Converter Angel. Did you lie?”

Erick turned and stared at Zago, completely unprepared for her to say such a thing.

The Baroness said, “I doubt any of your spells would be released in the Script how you think they will.”

Erick turned back to the Baroness. “… What?”

“Your Class, Erick. That thing to which all else is attached.”

“We are not on a first name basis, Baroness.”

Zago looked away.

The Baroness continued, undeterred, “We doubt more than a handful of people will ever be able to gain Particle Mage.” She added, “Powerful Classes always have some sort of strange unlocking requirement. Witch, for Curse Magic. Spellthief, for Copy Magic. Dread Warrior. Fel Cutter. Time Mage. Rightful Heir, for those who would be Ruler. All of those are dangerous Classes, that if part of the Open Script, would spell doom for many people.

“Particle Mage would no doubt become one of these special, hidden Classes.” She looked at Erick, and said, “You might be the only Particle Mage to ever exist. Therefore, your [Exalted Storm Aura] might be the only one to ever exist.” She looked up as Ophiel flew overhead, dragging with him a lake of thick air. She continued, “Your [Withering] will be lost, forever, if you do not teach people this magic; if you do not help others to gain this Class. And I don’t mean just one apprentice. I mean a school of your own, where you take the kids when they are young and you instruct them in your magic, and hopefully we can cleanse every single city on Veird of monsters, before moving on to the wilder, darker spaces of this world.

“I can make that happen for you.” She said, “If you want to support children gaining power, knowing that they will use that power properly, then let me sponsor you, so that you can do what is right and good for the world, without worrying about the safety of the children in a rough city like Spur—”

“I know I am spied upon quite a bit, but this is a bit much.”

The Baroness sat straight, and said, “War is coming. The time for subtlety and hiding the full extent of one’s power is quickly coming to a close.”

Erick said, “I just got notifications for two Puppet Masters in your city.” While the Baroness’s eyes went wide, and intent radiated from her head, Erick continued, “And you might be right. It might be naive to think that I can avoid whatever Quiet War is brewing alongside the war coming against the Shades, but I’m going to try.” He added, “I don’t know what a Converter Angel is supposed to look like or be, but I promised to help, so I will. If it ever appears, just let me know. Most things die to a few lightning bolts, anyway.”

“You are a poor fighter, archmage Flatt. I don’t need you on a battlefield. I need you in a classroom. You can help by teaching students, hand-picked for their virtue and desire to help the world.”

Erick said, “If I didn’t know any better, I would take you up on that offer. But I am done here. Thank you for the tea and the hospitality.” He said, “I’ll leave Ophiel rushing around for however long you need and inform you of the larger kills when they happen.” He added, “As for payment, I want you to give me a letter of introduction to the Magisterium so I won’t be touched while I clear out the majority of the mimics behind their ‘Wall’.”

“I will have your letter drafted at once, and I will pay for this service today in the usual manner.”

Erick said, “Don’t worry about the payment this time. This is a gift. We all have to stick together in the coming war.”

“Nonsense. I will pay the same price as before; the rads within the monsters slain.”

“I will not accept your payment. This is a gift.”

The Baroness smiled gently, but her voice was solid and full of promise, as she said, “Then I accept your gift. I hope to return such an act of kindness when I am in a position to do so.”

Suddenly, Erick felt as though he had made a mistake. Had Zago talked up the Wasteland custom of giving gifts and demanding debt, in order for this meeting with the Baroness to happen exactly as it had? Did Erick play this right?

Obviously, getting into debt with someone was one way for a relationship to continue. Ostensibly, that relationship could continue in a positive manner, if all parties agreed to such an arrangement. But it was a relationship with one hand open and inviting, and the other holding a dagger.

Maybe.

Erick had to read up on Wasteland customs more. He even had a little green book back home that might have the proper answer. He had read the The Foreigner Mage before, of course, but maybe it was time to sit down and read it again, before he went to the Magisterium.

Erick nodded once, preparing to blip away, as he said, “Contact Poi when you no longer need my spellwork—”

“Before you go.” The Baroness lost some of her regalness, saying, “Understand that we, the Wasteland Kingdoms, are trying to win you over to our side with candy and kindness.” Her voice turned adamantine again, as she said, “If you would like to know what the knife looks like, it would be us leaking to the Greensoil Republic that you have already agreed to help kill the Converter Angel. In such an event, we would strive to help you kill it when it came for you first, and we would help to defend you from the Republic’s assassins, but it would be much more difficult and taxing for everyone involved.” She stressed, “Whatever decision you make, I urge you not to go to Frontier in person. It is entirely possible that this theoretical Converter Angel already knows that you have entered into an informal contract to help kill it. It might be waiting for you there.”

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Erick listened. He did not respond. What could he have said to that? He blipped away.

Poi followed, on his own. Zago remained.

 

– – – –

 

Sirocco waited to give her report. She watched as Pirazel also waited.

After several moments, a woman with grey skin, wearing black and gold mage regalia, stepped out of nothing, onto the steps of the gazebo. She said, “We are alone, Baroness.”

Sirocco bowed her head to Pirazel, saying, “Baroness.”

“Pah!” Pirazel flicked a dismissive hand, saying, “Raise your head, Sirocco. You did well, given the circumstances. The Kingdoms wish you could have more time, but if a Converter Angel truly exists, then we don’t have years.”

“The Angel is troubling news indeed.” Sirocco asked, “Have there been any overt signs, yet?”

“None. The first we have heard of it was the listing in Candlepoint.” Pirazel said, “I was ready to be mad at you for stressing that Flatt could send his [Familiar] to deal with the mimics past the Wall, but this is likely the better course of action. Slower and steady is better than throwing him into those vipers at the Magisterium before he is ready.”

“I am grateful for your kind words.”

Pirazel continued, “Silverite was as cordial as ever to my questions and demands, but she is the same adventurer-turned-ruler that she has always been. Always more concerned with individual rights than what is good for the rest of us.” She asked, “Tell me, how has your experience been with your ‘Mayor’ since last we spoke?”

Sirocco, ever deferential, said, “If I push any further with Erick, it does not matter how well I run the Guild, or that there is no one to replace me. I will be exiled.” She added, “If Erick speaks unkindly, I might already be exiled.”

“She might be crude and dangerous, but she has been at this for a lot longer than any of us. I doubt she would upset her house when we are so close to one of those fabled Shade Wars you read in the history books. You have done enough pushing, for now.” She asked, “Enlighten me, is that imaging of his truly not blood magic?”

“Though it uses biological material to search, it has none of the telltale markers of blood magic. No ritual bloodletting. No sacrifice. No pain or death or coercion involved at all, and no lasting effects, either. I’m sure a specific kind of [Ward] would block it, but I am unaware what kind. [Weather Ward] does not work, and neither do any of the other usual ones. But the most telling aspect of [Cascade Imaging] as more than Blood Magic, is that he can target other active magic and display it on the map.”

“Bloody archmages. They make everything so much more complicated than it has to be.”

Sirocco nodded, and continued, “My best guess is that he is targeting lineage markers long suspected to exist, but never found. Or at least never written down for the rest of us. He must know what those markers are, at their very core.”

Pirazel turned to the black and gold mage.

The woman said, “Likely true. It did not look like blood magic to me, either.” She added, “Find a Mind Mage willing to flip and you’ll find the deeper truth. It might be worth it.” She continued, “If you could find leverage enough to use on this Poi fellow, you would find more answers about the nature of Reality than you knew what to do with.”

“No. Great Aunt Herie went up against the Mind Mages and lost everything that mattered. We will not be pursuing that option.” Pirazel turned back to Sirocco. “Let me take the blame for calling his spell blood magic if it is prudent to do so, and if he even understands the depth of the insult I gave him, but don’t work him too roughly. We have put him on edge, and too much of an edge can make a knife cut strange. Whatever the case, hopefully he keeps that attitude of gift giving. That attitude will serve him well in the Magisterium.” She added, “Dismissed.”

Sirocco nodded, saying, “Baroness.”