085, 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.”

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.

Erick now stared at a blank rectangular spot on the workbench, where diamond dust had piled around the edges of a now-missing box.

He joked, “She’s fast enough to be an assassin, I guess?”

Poi sighed, “Sorry. I didn’t…” He winced, then just went ahead and said what he was thinking, “I didn’t believe that she was actually going to do that. She didn’t even plan on it.”

Erick said, “Don’t worry about it.” He said, “Maybe this is for the best?” As Ophiel blipped off of his shoulder, to float outside of the window of the sunroom and begin casting an orb of light into the sky, Erick said, “[Cascade Imaging] will find her, and then I can ask her if what she took is what she really wants? … Maybe. Eh. I’m not sure what I want to say to her about this.” He added, “And what was that about— About everything she said? Hidden Classes? Artifact daggers? What is a Calamity Dagger? Registrars lying?”

Kiri said, “Registrars don’t lie. They just don’t help you unlock the more powerful methods to magic and otherwise. You have to do that on your own then ask them about what you’ve found.”

Erick frowned. “Ah.”

 

– – – –

 

[Cascade Imaging], trained on Erick’s torus-shaped rings, eventually revealed a few bright dots across the map. The first location was the house, because of course. The second was at the Guardhouse, with Teressa. Eventually, another location blipped blue: the Interfaith Church.

Mother Eriliad was waiting for Erick in her office, by the time he got there.

After pushing the box into Erick’s hands, Mother Eriliad said, “I don’t know where she went, but I am ashamed that she would do such a thing. She should never have—”

Erick cut her off, “She’s obviously in pain and distress and I won’t hold her accountable for this action. I’m not pressing charges and I don’t want anyone to make her life harder than it already is. When she comes back to you, will you tell her that I’ll still pay for her schooling, wherever she chooses?”

She seemed surprised, for a moment. “… I will tell her… But… Archmage.” Eriliad deflated a little, as she said, “Delia is gone. She rushed in here and threw these at me, and then she [Teleport]ed away, with a backpack. Four kids tried to follow her, but all of them came back. Some of them were crying. One of them had a broken arm.” She added, “I just sent him off to the hospital wing, not two minutes before you showed.”

“… Dammit.” Erick’s [Cascade Imaging] had taken a little while, but he didn’t think he would be this late. He asked, “Do you know where they went? Did her friends say anything?”

Eriliad shook her head. “They went to where the Harvest Temple used to be, but beyond that, I don’t know.”

Erick cursed again.

 

– – – –

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

 

The Harvest Temple, previously located in the center of the Farm, had been covered in black glass from the Red Dot attack. But now, that black glass was gone; turned to black sand, all around Erick. The Harvest Temple itself was gone, too.

Standing where the Temple had once stood, was a pile of brown and orange sand in the center of the black field. Even the Ring of Gods had been reduced to dirt, like tiny splashes of brown and tan and orange among the black.

Erick went to the next location.

 

– – – –

 

Valok’s house was a blackened crater, with guards standing around asking people what they had seen.

All anyone saw was Delia enter the house, for those that knew her, and ‘some pinkscale girl’ for those who didn’t. Smoke began billowing out of the house shortly afterward. The witnesses didn’t see her leave, before the whole structure collapsed into the ground.

Erick doubted she would have killed herself, but he helped the Guard excavate the house, anyway. All they found were ashes and broken things. He offered to [Mend] the location, and the Guard on the scene accepted.

With Valok’s house restored, and items somewhat in their place, Erick found nothing that seemed viable for a DNA scan. Besides, he didn’t want to chase the young girl too hard. She was obviously in great distress. So he just left a letter on the kitchen counter, and offered to buy the location to keep it intact for Delia’s eventual return.

The Guard on the scene didn’t know much about all that. Erick would have to follow up with the Courthouse.

He sent Kiri off on that errand.

 

– – – –

 

Back at his own house, under the safety of his [Prismatic Ward], Erick scattered Ophiel across the Crystal Forest. He telepathically called out to Delia, to tell her that she did not have to run; Spur was her home and he would never take that from her. He had even bought the house, so Delia had a place to come back to.

Kiri had found out that once someone torches their home, that property becomes property of the city. Erick rapidly bought Valok’s house, for 15,000 gold, but the paperwork would take days to go through the system. That didn’t really matter, though.

Because Delia did not respond to Erick’s telepathic calls, and that was more worrisome.

He didn’t even get a denial of connection.

But he kept trying. He had to know if she was okay.

After an hour, as the sun crossed the roof of the sky, the connection opened, and Erick felt relief like an ocean washing over him.

Erick sent, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help you as you want. Please forgive me, and come back to Spur.’

Eventually, a reply came, ‘I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll come back. But not right now. I… Good bye.’

The connection broke.