088, 2/2

The land north of Spur was a blackened and grey stretch of sand a little over two kilometers across, surrounded by short, two meter high walls. Standing atop Spur’s ten meter high walls, Erick had a good view of the whole place, as the sun shone down hot and brutal, and the northern wind rolled across the sands, and curled into his clothes.

Roughly evenly dividing the right hand ranching land from the left, was a meter high stone wall. Gently rolling hills dominated the cattle side, along with a central stone barnyard and other smaller structures built atop a few of the larger hills. An off-center depression in that lumpy space had been carved down, below the level of most of the rest of the space. From Erick’s perspective, that central depression was likely both the drainage field and water source for future cattle; they wouldn’t be drinking from the Lake, not with that wall in the way.

To the left of the short, central wall, was a surrounding edge of black land that encircled a grey and orange clay bed that would eventually become the Lake. The depression was shaped like a squarish blob, with parts of it much deeper than the rest, maybe as much as five meters, while none of the future Lake was anywhere near the main walls of Spur, or the smaller walls of the exterior. If this entire new addition to Spur’s territory was three square kilometers, about the same size as the entire Human District, with the Gardens, then the Lake had to be just under a single square kilometer.

Erick smiled, as he stared out across the land, imagining cows and swimming and fishing. He said, “I like that the cows get their own watering hole.”

Silverite, standing next to Erick, said, “Cows shit an awful lot, Erick. We weren’t about to have that runoff go directly into the main reservoir.”

Al, standing on Erick’s other side, laughed, and said, “Aye! Best head off that problem before it happens.”

Erick was glad to see Al again. He hadn’t seen or spoken to his friend since the morning after Savral’s party. It had been a nice night, but Savral had grown unusually tired as the sun came up, and Al had to take care of him. Al had also promised to show up some time later for beers, but that just never happened, for some unknown reason. He looked happy right now, though.

Al continued, “The Ranch and the Lake are topographically perfect; runoff will go where it has to go, so there’s no need to worry about that. I expect, that after we get the whole thing set up and the plants are stable and the basins are soaked, that a rain a day will be able to keep the place properly under water.”

Apogee, the planar brownscale and soon-to-be Rancher, said, “It’s going to be beautiful. I’ve got clover planted everywhere, and Silverite planted something for the Lake—”

Silverite said, “Veil lilies. Great for water quality.”

“Yes! Those!” Apogee said, “So start her up, Erick!”

“Not so fast!” Al turned to Erick, and said, “A single rain right now. Ten minutes. Just enough to prime the soil and dampen the clay so that it begins to stick together and create a barrier. Then more, later. As soon as the land stabilizes, then you can fill the Lake over the course of a week.”

Apogee said, “Use the silver rain to grow the field, first.” He looked up at Al, saying, “That’ll keep the ground in place.” He added, “And then break open the sky, Erick!”

“If you don’t give the clay a chance to soak up the water, you’re just gonna wash it all down into the desert sands below. That bedrock is not near the surface, Apogee.” Al said, “The clay needs a chance to prime.”

Erick cut a building argument short by raising white clouds from the ground, extending his [Exalted Storm Aura] forward, into the wind, making sure no clouds appeared over the city behind him. As Apogee and Al went silent, white mist roiled out into the northern sky. Crackles of white light flashed behind a now-cloudy air, as platinum rain began to fall upon dark sands, and the tiny seeds hidden therein, all across the Lake and the Ranch. In moments, grey sands turned black, water soaking into the land.

Suddenly, green swept up hills and down into dips in the dirt, covering acres and then hectacres and more, filling out Spur’s new addition with twisting, tiny clover, like a green, shag carpet. The green mostly stopped at the edge of the lake, but here and there, tiny blooms of green appeared where there would eventually be water.

Erick cut the platinum rain. Clouds turned to back to mist, to blow away on the wind. He said, “You could do with some tree cover, too, for the cows and such. Chickens like to roost in trees, right?”

Silverite smiled upon the green land, and said, “I heard you want to make a tree [Familiar], so if you want to plant one out there, go ahead.”

“Well— I didn’t mean… I kinda wanted it by the house.” Erick added, “But there should be some other trees out there too, ya know? Cows like to relax in the shade, don’t they?”

Apogee said, “Enough prattling. Bring on the rain!”

“Who’s the Stone Mage here? Who’s the Sewermaster?” Al asked, rhetorically. “Listen to what I’m saying, Apogee.”

“Bah!” Apogee said, “I waited a whole week to get this place up and running! I got cows to import.”

“We’re going to do it right,” said Silverite. “We’re going with Al’s plans.”

Apogee grumbled.

Al said, “The clover needs to be turned over, anyway, and you need to plant real grasses on top of that. And why not Farmer’s Grass? It’s better than clover for soil preparation.”

“I like clover! Cows love clover, too.” He turned to Erick, saying, “So soak ‘er down!”

“The lake needs to be filled over a period of a week, with multiple growing cycles and much more than just clover. Some trees would do wonders for erosion. Apple, ribbon, arnnian, whatever kind you choose.” Al said, “This is brand new land, Apogee. You put cows on there now, and they’ll fall through the sand and break their legs while they’re at it.”

“I will never believe that, Al. You don’t need to do it that way, I’m sure.”

Al laughed, loud.

Silverite said, “We’ll go with Al’s plans, for now.”

Apogee grumbled, his tail tapping the walkway, as he said, “Fine,” before blipping away in a bronze flash.

Al said, “A good [Call Lightning] would be fine, right now, Erick.”

Erick smiled. Ophiel blipped off of Erick’s shoulder, and took his spot flying in the center, between the Lake and the Ranch. Erick shaped a [Call Lightning] from Ophiel’s position. Dark clouds spilled out of the sky, casting shadows across the land. Thunder rumbled above. Erick cast again, and the dark clouds began to rain, heavily.

Al asked, “Was that one, or two?”

“Two.” Erick said, “Two casts makes the rain start immediately.”

Al grumbled.

Erick teased, “What? Apogee seemed at least a little right.”

“He was not,” Al said, with an air of finality. He sighed. He said, “It’s fine. I’ll fix it up tomorrow.”

Silverite stared outward, into the storm, smiling wide as stray drops of rain blew on the breeze and touched all three of them. She pointed to the Lake, almost squealing as she said, “It’s filling!”

It was filling. The deepest parts of the Lake, in the center and further north, began to layer over with a small sheen of water. Erick smiled.

Al grinned, as he said, “Looks like the topography is correct, too. Everything is draining as it should on the Ranch.”

Erick looked to the Ranch. The land was draining onto the cattle pond. It was already showing at least a foot deep of water, but no more. Erick expected it to continue to fill up, but it wouldn’t.

Al must have seen Erick’s disbelief, because he said, “When the basins are settled, I’ll remove the underground pipe from the cattle pond to the Lake.”

“This is great.” Silverite smiled, as she said, “I’m really happy for this.” She added, “Erick, if you want to make a tree [Familiar], the lake is a great spot. Don’t make it inside the city. Trees always turn into domineering beings, and I won’t have something like that living in my city, expecting people to respect its ‘sovereignty’ or ‘space’. But something like that living near the Lake? I can allow that, and even support such a choice.”

“But… It’ll see that the cows are being used for food?” Erick said, “It’s a strange concern, but exposing a nascent life to something like that seems like a bad idea.” Erick called Ophiel back to him, and set his winged, slightly damp [Familiar] on his shoulders, adding, “The Compendium of Summons says that exposing a budding life to death is a bad idea.”

Silverite smiled, as she said, “Direct exposure is bad, but I disagree that total censoring is the proper way to raise a tree. Placed by the Lake, your tree would merely see the same cycle of life it would see in any natural part of the world. It’ll see cattle, and then those cattle vanish and never return. It’ll probably see people fishing at the Lake, and grilling those fish. It will see murder and death, and mimics just beyond the wall that want it dead. It’ll see a lot about a lot, while growing up in a communal piece of land.” She added, “It would grow up knowing its place in the world, instead of as a master of its domain, which is what I think you would make if you put a tree by your house and gave it the task of raining on time.”

“… But what if I make him with [Gate]?”

Silverite lost her mirth. She thought. She said, “People would try to control this living being. Do not do this to your [Familiar].”

Erick felt a profound exhaustion. “Fine.”

“In other news,” Silverite said, “I heard that the Converter Angel entry on Candlepoint’s Monster Board was taken down. Which is just all sorts of weird.”

Erick flubbed a, “Huh? Wha? What does that—” He asked, “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“We’re not sure what it means. The Angel might have just gone inactive.” Silverite said, “What has been confirmed, is that Candlepoint’s Monster Board tracks the existence of every single active monster and calamity on Veird. The most egregious entries have all proven existent. Ballooning Spiders were spotted leaving Quintlan, just yesterday.” Her silver skin rippled under her sundress, as she said, “Those things are awful.”

Al’s voice turned serious. “Where will they land first, this time?”

“Northern Nergal, near Eidolon, according to the Weather Witches.” Silverite said.

“What are Ballooning Spiders?” Erick asked.

Al said, “Ballooning Spiders are an Underworld species, but when there’s enough of them, they break the surface and spin webs lighter than air, to ride the high winds of the upper atmosphere, around the planet. They drop when they see settlements and otherwise, consuming everything organic and laying invisible eggs, before they continue on the winds, or dig back down to the Underworld.”

Silverite said, “The bigger ones are the size of a Shadow Spider, but all of them are incredibly venomous. It’s the tiny, slime-sized ones that will get you.” She added, “The larger ones mentally control the smaller ones, almost like a group mind.”

“… But they are monsters, right? With rads?” Erick asked. “Does Eidolon need help?”

“They’re monsters, but…” Silverite shook her head, then said, “Even if they do need help… The wind tunnels and mana streams of the upper atmosphere go around the entire world in a few days.” She added, “We could have Ballooning Spiders dropping on our heads at any time between tomorrow and an entire month from now.”

“Oh.” Erick said, “That’s bad.”

Al said, “It can be, but if you see them coming they’re not too deadly.” He asked, “Are we buttoning up Spur, yet?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll begin.” Silverite said, “I’m having people put up announcements right now.” She added, “Might be calling on you for more [Withering]s, when the time comes, Erick.”

“Of course,” Erick said.

The clouds of [Call Lightning] up above began to break against the northern winds. The rain stopped. Sunlight shimmered across green fields and grey water basins.

Silverite sighed, and smiled small, as she looked out across the land. “Work is never done! Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. Time to get back to it.” She nodded toward Erick and Al, then blipped away in a crash of silver light.

Erick asked, “Hey, Al? Want to get a beer?”

Al smiled down at Erick, but said, “Sorry. Not if I got a day of buttoning up the city tomorrow. I still got work left over from today, too. Some rowdy kids demolished a section of the sewers this morning, but I wanted to be here for this.” He gestured toward the Ranch and the Lake, saying, “I’m going to do a once over, then get back to fixing the problems down below. Some other day?”

“Sure.” Erick said, “Whenever.” He added, “So I’m just supposed to rain… how? To fill the lake?”

Al said, “After an hour, after it’s soaked a bit, a single rain every hour thereafter should be okay. I gotta check it, now though. Fix small problems before they become big problems. See ya.” Al blipped away in a clear light.

Erick stared at the spot where Al blipped away. What was all that about? Erick turned toward the Ranch, and saw Al standing by the cattle pond, his feet sunk into the sand and mud. Water flowed in minor creeks all across the Ranch toward the pond, but vanished into a hole in the center. Al stepped out of the mud, and walked across seemingly solid land, through green fields of clover. He didn’t fall into the dirt again, so he must have been using some sort of magic.

Erick watched Al for a second longer, then sighed out into the damp air, and said, “Whatever.” He turned to Poi, standing a meter away. “So Ballooning Spiders?”

“A problem every ten years, or so, though the last one was only eight years ago.” Poi said, “What they didn’t mention, because it doesn’t really affect us here, is that the spiders are all levels 10 through 40, meaning that in other parts of the worlds with lower level monsters, the spiders either get killed, and the other monsters level up, causing a monster rage, or the spiders win, and they dig back down to the Underworld to nest and wait for the next spawning.”

“So… Are Ballooning Spiders a large concern around here, or not? I’m getting mixed messages.”

“The mimics usually eat any that fall in the Forest, but they can be a problem for some people in the cities. They’re worse than shadowolves, for sure, but not much worse, if you’re prepared.”

Erick thought that over, then asked, “Care for a blip back to base?”

Poi took Erick’s hand.

They departed Spur’s wall in a blip of white.

By the time he appeared in the foyer of the house, Erick realized he forgot to ask Silverite about the war against Candlepoint.

And then he realized, and said, “Poi! Why hasn’t Killzone come and gotten his enchanted orb yet?” He added, “It might be plus 100 to all Stats!”

“I cannot say—”

Erick gave him a look.

Poi continued, “—Because I have told him, and he has not responded. I have also expressed your offer to Silverite, as well.”

“… To the Quartermaster, then!”

Poi, long-suffering, and to fend off a very possible upcoming problem, asked “Have you tried using it as a light slime, yet? That’s the idea, right? Give it to a gelatinous person?”

“… To the tower, then!”

 

– – – –

 

Erick flopped out of his clothes and to the floor of his mage tower. He was, once again, a bumbling ball of translucent goo with a glowing white core. If he was being honest with himself, it felt kinda freeing to be bumbling around, naked. Thankfully, he was alone, or he might have felt self conscious. … Well… Poi was there, but he didn’t count.

And just like that, and for about the hundredth time, he found himself wondering how Jane could possibly like being a—

…

Was his daughter an exhibiti—

NOPE. Not thinking about that. Nope. No.

Moving right along.

With an easy application of his Handy Aura, Erick pulled out a stone box from under the back of the stone bench, disturbing settled diamond dust into the air.

He paused, as he watched light cascade through glittering showers of broken carbon, flickering and brilliant in the afternoon light. And then he got a grip of himself, and the box. ‘Seeing’ through the eyes of a light slime was a trippy, fun experience. Distracting, too.

Ah. Wait. That was what Jane liked about [Polymorph]. Duh. She wanted to see the world through a whole bunch of different eyes, and in the case of [Polymorph], that was easily accomplished.

Erick pulled the lid off of the stone box, revealing a silver orb, a little larger than a softball, or possibly a grapefruit. It was almost large enough to use as a football, but not quite. It was actually about the size of Erick’s own glowing white orb in the center of his slimy body. He Handy Aura’d the ball out of the box, and held it up to the light. It was pretty perfectly spherical. He had done a good job carving away both the clear diamond core, to be perfectly spherical, as well as the outside, to be perfectly smooth.

He plopped the orb against his gooey body.

In a moment that he could have likened to a hundred uncomfortable situations, and because he did not want to eat it, Erick pressed the orb against himself, and gently —gently!— pushed it inward.

Gods above! Pressing the orb into his slime body was the most uncomfortable thing he had ever done, and that included some wild parties of his youth that he looked back on fondly, but would never want to repeat. He was simultaneously too full and—

The world swam left and right. Erick briefly looked at his Status, and saw that the orb was actually Plus 108 to All Stats, but that elated moment was swept away by a deep, blossoming feeling, that came from his core and radiated everywhere but only inside of him, as the stone cracked and purple light soaked into his body, drowning his sight with violet highs and amethyst depths.

He felt another painful pressure within, and it was too much. He involuntarily spat out the cracked and leaking orb.

The orb exploded. Diamond shards ripped through a meter of air before the shards were caught by the [Prismatic Ward]. Erick rolled away from the falling shrapnel, right into Poi and the rod of [Treat Wounds]. Suddenly, a pale white glow suffused his body, driving out the purple bouncing around inside his thin skin, restoring mass he didn’t know he had lost.

After a moment of blobbing there, seeing what had become of the purple orb, and wondering what had almost become of himself, Erick flopped over into his clothes, and carefully [Polymorph]ed into his original body. He adjusted his garments so that his legs went into the proper holes, and his shirt didn’t get turned around, and then he looked down at the mess in front of him.

“So. That was a failure.” Erick said, “Probably good thing I tested it out.”

Poi said, “Probably.”

Erick walked over to the clear shards of diamond that used to be worth 108 All-Stats, and poked them with his Handy Aura. They clinked over themselves, exactly as a broken pile of diamonds were expected to clink over themselves. Erick didn’t know what he was expecting, there. Still using his [Handy Aura], Erick touched the pile, and cast [Mend].

The orb came back together, but different. Erick picked it up. The orb was still broken, but it was mostly whole. Cracks had spider webbed across the whole silver surface, revealing the dull, still-shattered interior. This was a well known enchantment failure, that he had seen many times before. He didn’t even have to consult his enchanting books. This broken gem had been so disrupted by magical forces that [Mend] couldn’t even repair it back to the way it should be, because the original item was no longer a common item.

 

 

Erick tried [Mending Aura], instead, keeping the aura close to his body.

 

 

Slowly, over the course of almost half a minute and almost all of his remaining mana, the orb healed. Tiny cracks in the surface slipped shut from their edges inward, leaving Erick once again with the silver sphere he had started with. But was it enchanted? Probably not.

Erick [Stoneshape]d a thumbprint-sized brush of silver coating off of the orb, revealing the inner, clear diamond. No purple manalight at all. The magic therein had been destroyed.

Erick said, “Probably best that it never got to Killzone or Silverite.” He asked, “Did they know something like that would happen?”

Poi offered, “I can ask?”

“Let’s just… never speak of this again. That was… very uncomfortable.” He added, “I’ll solve this problem, then give them the completed items.”

Poi nodded; a slight grin on his lips.

Erick checked his Status and [Polymorph], just to make sure nothing had happened, like he gained a weird Familiar Form, or such, and sure enough, his Status and his spell were unchanged.

 

– – – –

 

Erick sent Ophiel out to rain over the Lake and Ranch every hour, while he took up a comfortable position in his library and continued to read about summons and tiers and what was okay, and what was not okay.

The multiple authors of the Compendium had long ago figured out almost every nuance there was to [Conjure Force Elemental]. Sirocco’s bit about ‘the [Familiar] in the Script is a lock on accidentally creating sentience’, seemed to have come directly from this book; in fact, it was the preface for one of the beginning chapters.

That sentence was proven to be a white lie in the very next paragraph, though. Apparently, even tier 2 [Familiar]s would achieve sentience if given enough time. The book gauged ‘enough time’ as 250 years, which was a bit out of Erick’s care. If Erick ever lived that long, which was a truly crazy thought, then Ophiel would become real.

… It was an interesting thought.

Ophiel was a good boy, but would, theoretically, living for 250 years alongside whatever awful things Erick got up to, be conducive toward remaining a good boy? Who would Erick be in 250 years?

… At that point in time, thinking of Ophiel as a ‘good boy’ would likely be too reductive of a thought to ever truly grasp the being that Ophiel could eventually become.

Eh. Thinking of the future was good and all, but not if it meant failing and possibly dying today.

As Erick read, he got the distinct impression that the authors had measured and timed and quantified [Conjure Force Elemental], and a great deal of the text was given over toward understanding what made a summon a ‘real being’ or not, but they didn’t speak too much about the underlying magics.

Which was probably just as well. No one really knew why gravity worked, or how atoms functioned the way they did, or what dark matter was. Reality was how reality was. Sure, you could overlay names and theories over natural functions, and they might perfectly describe the systems they were meant to describe, but ‘Why?’ was an inherently unanswerable question. Might as well ask Rozeta to tell you how the Script worked.

But there were guidelines to understanding the timeline by which a tier 2 summon became real:

Anything summoned at tier 2 to tier 7, made without [Telepathy] and [Scry], the two main parts of creating a [Familiar], would take anywhere from hundreds of years to become real, to several moments, and would almost always create a rampaging monster.

Anything made at tier 2, made with [Telepathy] and [Scry], and raised as a [Familiar], would take about 150 to 300 years to become a real being, depending on the mana cost of the spell, and if you could summon more than one, and if they were a group mind, and if—