092, 1/2

A cool wind blew from the north, curling across the orange sands of the Crystal Forest, catching on dunes and rocky outcroppings, as the sun beat down from the eastern sky. Brown worms poked up from the flatter, loamy parts of the Crystal Forest, eager to catch glowbugs drifting in the air, while Mimics on the eastern sides of the dunes were already positioned to enjoy the warming morning light. As the day wore on, and warmth turned to heat, the worms would retreat underground, while the mimics followed the sun across dunes, keeping their shuffling movements limited to when no one was watching, or their explosive movements to when prey or danger was close enough to eat.

Mostly, no one watched them, aside from the worms and crystal spinehogs, and the occasional errant school of flying fish, and wandering wyrm. At a disturbance, the worms would duck down into the soil, while mimics pondered their response. If the disturbance was small and directly next to them, they would rush to eat whatever vibrated the land. If the disturbance was medium sized, they might rush away, or pretend nothing had happened. In the case of a sandstorm, or other event where the entire sky and the Crystal Forest vibrated from horizon to horizon, the mimics hunkered down.

But today, when there were no visible disturbances aside from the wind blowing sand, the mimics were agitated. They tinkled and chimed their fake-crystal leaves in a way that was very much not a natural product of the wind. They scurried a bit from left to right, or to the north, or to the south, trying to find whatever was out there, but their uneasy movements revealed nothing.

The sky was blue, and endless. Perfectly normal.

But the wind was different.

 

– – – –

 

Erick stood atop the short wall that separated the rolling hills of the Ranch from the deep blue waters of the Lake. Cows, brown and black and mottled, mooed into the air as they bounced across fields of clover and wildflowers and dense green grass. Wind tickled from the north, blowing ripples in the surface of the Lake—

Startled at a sudden thought, Erick said, “The smell is going to wash up the walls, into the city.”

Apogee, the only dragonkin Erick had ever seen with a tail, laughed. It was just the two of them, and Poi, out here on the wall in the center of Spur’s expansion. Erick had finished the final rain a little bit ago, bringing the Lake up to size, and watering the Ranch.

Apogee said, “I’ve got cowgrass planted all over to keep down the smell and I’ll pick up the dung beetles next week, after there’s something for them to eat.” He pointed south, to the line of trees growing near the wall. “Scent trees will keep down most of the smell, but if it gets bad, I’ll just cover the place in [Scent Ward]s. Besides! This ain’t no nation-sized meat farm; don’t go expecting me to have a thousand head of cattle out here.”

Erick counted a little, and saw maybe forty cows in sight. “How many are there out there?”

“Two hundred fifty.” Apogee added, “Got chickens coming to the Ranch next month to take up the rest of the space.”

Erick saw a tail stick up from the taller grass. He asked, “Cats are already here?”

“Aye.” Apogee said, “Missoli’s cats are already out there, taking care of the usual pest species.”

“What do they hunt besides chickens?”

Apogee barked a laugh. “Hopefully they won’t hunt any chickens! But that’s a fool’s thought.” He pointed with a talon, saying, “That’s one of the things they hunt, right there.”

Erick watched as a large black beetle lifted from the ground, maybe twenty meters away. It was about the size of a head, and shiny black. Erick barked his own laugh, for he had definitely heard of those black bugs before, and one had even scared Jane awake almost a year ago when he and her were camping out under the stars, and very fresh to Veird. But he had never seen one before.

“I haven’t spared a thought about those bugs in a long time,” Erick said.

“Not surprising, if you don’t camp outside all that often.” Apogee said, “Bed bugs don’t like to be out in the day, or this visible, but the pregnant ones get extra hungry. Cats love ‘em, though.”

A trio of dark shapes prowled through the grasses behind the bed bug, while the bed bug hovered behind a gently grazing cow. The bug landed on the cow’s back, but the cow didn’t even register the bug’s weight. It must have kept itself in flight, somehow. Maybe it used [Airshape]? Or maybe it was an [Anti-Gravity Ward] effect. A lot of animals out there had spell-like abilities.

A trickle of blood slipped down the cow’s side as the bed bug dug into the skin. The cow didn’t seem to notice. The cow certainly noticed the cats, though, as one wild-clawed feline leapt through the air, tacking the bug off of the cow, drawing more lines of blood as the bed bug’s claws tore across its hide. The cow bucked. The cat landed with the bug in its jaw and claws. While the cow raced away, the other two cats, which Erick just now noticed were much smaller than the first one, leapt in to help kill the beetle. Maybe a parent teaching their cubs how to hunt? They won their battle and got their meal, while the cow just mooed, loudly.

Erick asked, “Is the cow going to be okay?”

“Cows get hurt like that all the time, but they’re bred to heal fast. They couldn’t survive out here if they couldn’t.” Apogee said, “Shadowolves, you know.” He added, “That cat’s takedown was picture perfect. I don’t doubt that she’s killed a few shadowolves in her time.”

“Really?” Erick asked, disbelieving.

“Oh yeah.” Apogee said, “Cats hunt in trios and quads when they can, while the wolves tend to hunt alone.” He shrugged, adding, “But cats prefer an easy meal like anyone, so I expect to lose some chickens.”

Erick asked, “How do you keep the cats from overpopulating?”

“Spaying and neutering, of course.”

“Hah! I didn’t know they did that, here.”

Apogee smirked, saying, “It’s a specialty Healer’s spell. [Sterile]. Some people get it done on themselves, too, since it’s reversible with a [Treat Wounds].” He added, “[Sterile] comes from [Inflict Wounds].” He paused. He said, “Yup. That’s right.”

Erick asked, “So where are your cinnamon trees? You got your clippings, didn’t you?”

“I did!” Apogee said, “They’re past that hill, to the north, along with the yeaster flower and sweetgrain.”

Erick saw leafy greenery poking out behind the main hills of the Ranch, but there wasn’t that much there. Maybe three or four trees? Five? The wall behind that greenery was not much taller than the trees, which reminded Erick that if they were, then the mimics outside the walls would see the greenery, and swarm to take it down. Erick almost asked about trees for the cows, too, but Apogee was one step ahead of his questions.

Apogee pointed to some stone circle here and there on scattered hilltops, saying, “I got trees for the cows coming along, too. Roofing trees. They’re big flat things that do well in deserts, so I don’t have to worry about them getting enough water being on tops of the hills; they’ll grow all the way over to the Lake, eventually. I’ll work on getting those to size, later today.”

“It looks good, Apogee.” Erick turned around, and said, “The Lake looks good, too.”

The waters were crystal clear at the surface, with blue lilies floating on the edges, but the Lake quickly turned dark blue as meters of water piled up. The Lake was twenty meters to the bottom at the deepest parts. It had been expanded somewhere between the initial designs and this current iteration, both to keep it cooler to prevent excess evaporation, and to allow future fish that liked their water deeper. Erick hadn’t really noticed the extra depth until today. Mostly, he had just sent Ophiel out here to rain whenever Erick felt like raining, which was actually rather often.

Apogee gazed upon the Lake with him, smiling, as he asked, “Do you know how hard it is to get a life like this, Erick?”

“What do you mean?”

“A goal, a community, a family that’s doing well.”

“That’s the dream, for sure.” Erick added, “It’s been rough, but I doubt I had the same problems as you. I’m still finding my way, too; every day.”

Apogee glanced to Erick, saying, “From what I hear, Fork is gonna have your [Gate] nonsense sorted out soon enough. That’s gonna be difficult for you.” He looked to the Lake. “I tried to help this world for a while, like you have, using what I knew. For a while there, I even got rid of my original body to blend in. But that was a mistake. That’s when…” He frowned. He went silent.

The man obviously wanted to talk about his trouble with someone that might understand him, but he wasn’t able, yet. Erick wanted to talk to him, too, but he wasn’t going to push.

So Erick turned the topic to an easier subject, “Any idea what kind of fish are going in the Lake?”

Apogee happily said, “Rainbow flits. Goldscale slippers. Striped silvertail. They’re a well established trio of fish that are great for reservoirs, and they taste good, too.” He smiled again, as he said, “I really love Spur. It’s one of the only places I could ever get to do something like this. Ah! But it is good to be a part of the upper class.”

Erick smiled. “Is that what you are?”

“You’re in the ruling class of Spur, too.” Apogee said, “You didn’t have to wade through a decade of shit to get there, either.”

“Heh.” Erick smiled. Then he lost his smile. Then he whispered, “I’m part of the ruling class?”

“Call it what you will. Spur is basically a small kingdom, but without those awful noble families. Instead of them you got people like you and the guildmasters.” Apogee said, “I’m glad I’m done with that life, though. Retirement is the best.”

“… I never thought of it like that.”

“You didn’t?” Apogee said, “That’s one of the only reasons I came to Spur. Almost went to Outpost, but they pissed me off. I forget why, though.”

For a long moment, Erick looked out across the Lake, and thought. He was part of the ruling class of Spur? No. But at the same time… Maybe? Maybe he was? Ah. No. He wasn’t. But from a certain angle, it was possible to see him as a part of Spur’s elite. He sat at the table when all the archmages and heads of the city came together to see Candlepoint appear on viewing screens. Poi even said that Silverite and Spur tried to get behind him on all his decisions, because he brought the rain and food and large enough spells to clear the entire city of monsters. But he had never really made an unpopular decision before…

Except his choice to let the Flare Couatl kill Hunters while Messalina searched for the Cinnabar Hand.

Or just the other day, when he decided to play along with the shadelings of Candlepoint, for now, and give them food so they weren’t starving. Now that, was an unpopular decision. But Silverite let it happen. There were caveats, of course, but it was allowed to continue.

But. Ruling class? Erick wasn’t really comfortable with that. But maybe that was the truth?

Erick said, “Ruling class?”

“You shot up to the top of the pile rather fast.” Apogee said, “I had to become the guildmaster for a Wayfarer branch before I was allowed in on decisions that affected the city.” He smirked, saying, “All you had to do was invent a new form of magic.” He laughed. “I tried to do that, but it didn’t work quite right.”

“What did you try to do?”

“Get home; Spatial Magic.” Apogee sighed as he looked out across the Lake. He turned back to the Ranch, saying, “But this is good. This is better. This is what I want. Thanks, Erick, for making it happen.”

Erick smiled. He asked, “Say. Did you ever happen to find out how to make artifacts while you were out there, searching Veird?”

“Nope.” Apogee said, “That was one of my big searches, too. Every mage tries for that at some point in their lives. Only thing I ever found out was that normal people make self-sustaining, barely used, stationary artifacts, like a Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove, but only Shades and Gods make handheld varieties.”

Erick nodded. “I think a real artifact is gonna be my next project. Gotta spread my spells out to others so that I’m not a point of failure when this war breaks out.”

Apogee smiled at Erick, flashing sharp white teeth, as he said, “Then more strength to you.” He pointed to the barn, adding, “I got cows to feed, and trees to [Grow]. See you around.”

“Good luck making that cinnamon alcohol.” Erick joked, “Don’t go blind drinking your own whiskey.”

Apogee laughed, saying, “I haven’t done that in decades!” as he blipped away in a bronze flash.

Erick smiled. He turned back to the Lake.

After a minute of watching the surface waves, he asked, “How bad is evaporation going to be? Someone has done the calculations, right? ‘Cause I’m not gonna.”

Poi said, “The three fish Apogee mentioned work in concert to keep water fresh and stable in almost all conditions, and this includes preventing excess evaporation. It’s not perfect, though, and definitely not good enough to keep a non-oasis lake around in the Crystal Forest.” He said, “But the normal light showers that need to happen over the Ranch should be good enough for the Lake, too.”

Erick hummed. Poi’s idea of the needs of the Lake and the Ranch were in line with Erick’s own, but maybe there was a better way. Erick had sent a message through Poi to Silverite, earlier. Maybe she had approved his idea? Erick asked, “Has Silverite said anything about [Control Weather], yet?”

Poi looked to the air. After a moment of checking with the streamers of intent around his head, he turned back to Erick. “She’s thinking about it, but she has not consulted others and we’re not quite sure what your spell will look like in the Crystal Forest. Right now she’s leaning toward ‘yes’, but she needs more information. She has suggested that you throw this spell over Candlepoint, if they will let you. It would lead to less of your own involvement in the city, they can spend magic to conjure moisture from a sky full of clouds, if they need it, and we’ll have a test run of the spell’s capabilities and environmental impact.”

Erick thought for a moment. He said, “That’s a good point.” He shrugged. “And if they say no, I could just make a plot of green forest out there somewhere. There’s no shortage of space, out there.”

Poi nodded.

Erick thought. He said, “Actually! I’ve decided: I’m going to do that, anyway. Just to see if I can.” He smiled. I wonder what Sininindi will think of— Ah! Drat. I forgot to put in my tithe to the Church. Let’s go do that, Poi.” He held his hand out to Poi. “Think I can blip directly into the Bank?”

Poi frowned. “If we must do this quickly, please [Teleport] to the Mage Guild, instead. They have spaces for this, and the Bank is runed against [Teleport].”

“Fair enough!”

Poi took Erick’s hand. The two of them flashed white, blipping away.

 

– – – –

 

The trip to the bank was a really, really nice trip.

Erick had wanted to set up his account to automatically give 1.5 percent of monthly earnings to the Church, and also to check his balance, his deposits, and everything else about his bank account. They led Erick to a nice, partially private room just off the banking floor, where a nice young man served him hot tea, where he waited for an older woman teller to prepare and deliver all of his banking information. The greyscale worked fast. Erick only had to wait ten minutes while all of his information was gathered. The greyscale gently advised him that if he did not wish to wait, that he could always make an appointment, but Erick wasn’t in any rush.

When his information was finally brought to him, he was, at first, bewildered. And then he was happy.

Like, really, really happy.

“Oh my gods,” Erick breathed out, reading the numbers the teller had given him. He was filthy rich. Beyond the necessary amount to live, for sure. He contained his happiness to a simple overflowing smile. Reading a slightly different set of numbers, he saw ten different deposits for 25,000 gold in the last three weeks, along with a lump sum 131,000 gold paid in the last few days, all from the same account. That account was number 000-000-001. It had to be the Headmaster’s. Holy shit, that was a lot of money! Erick mumbled, “The Light Slime dungeon must be working well.” He smiled wider. He giggled. He laughed. He said, “It’s time to start enchanting again!”

The teller asked, “Will you be wishing to withdraw any rads today?”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

“No no no.” Erick said, “I’m gonna hunt for those. I will need a way to use this money to pay for materials, though. Metals and such.”

The teller nodded, and said, “Any Mage Guild Bank the world over will be able to draw on your funds, as per usual, but getting liquid funds does take time.”

“Right. Right. I already knew that. Oh!” Erick said, “I need to set up a 1.5% monthly tithe on earning to the Interfaith Church of Spur.”

“Easily accomplished.” The greyscale pulled out a drawer behind her desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper. “One percent is normal. Are you sure you wish for 1-point-5?”

“Yes.”

The greyscale began writing.

Erick signed and dated five sheets of paperwork. It was the most paperwork Erick had done in the last year, not counting Oceanside studying, of course. Erick got out of the Bank feeling a lot better about his own stability, and the fact that he could easily afford the promise he had made to Delia. That was never in doubt, not really. But actually seeing the number in front of him, and not being drunk like he was yesterday, really helped to cement that he was doing rather well in this strange world.

Still… ‘Ruling Class’? Erick didn’t like that.

 

– – – –

 

After the Bank, Erick thought no more about his supposed ‘political status’ as he turned his thoughts to enchanting and [Control Weather] and other issues. He had walked out of the Mage Guild to get to the Bank, but now he walked back into the Mage Guild, looking to solve some more problems and pick up some more answers from the Guild Library. Both times he looked for Anhelia, but both times she was not there at the front desk.

Anhelia caught up to him while he was speaking to the orangescale librarian, Tamarim, about finding specific books.

Anhelia did not look happy, exactly, upon seeing Erick, but she didn’t look angry, either. Her iron ‘skin’ was creased, while her eyes seemed slightly hollow. Was it possible for wrought to age? Or was she just tired? Whatever the case, Erick was glad she was here. What had she learned about Candlepoint since last they spoke?

“Ah, good. You are here today,” Erick said, as he turned away from Tamarim. “I didn’t see you out there when I came through the first time.”

Anhelia said, “I need to speak with you.” She sent, ‘I am very busy, so it will be quick, and [Telepathy] is good enough of a security barrier.’

Erick paused. He tentatively sent, ‘Okay. You seem distraught? Is something wrong?’

‘I will be blunt: Are you working with the Shades?’

Erick had a supreme moment of disbelief. He smiled a little. Was Anhelia fucking with him? Surely she must be fucking with him. But as the moment came and went, and she studied Erick with serious eyes, her words weren’t funny anymore. Disbelief turned to hurt, turned to anger, then rage. Rage was quickly subsumed by utter disconnect, as Erick felt unmoored; lost, and not himself.

He had been accused of some pretty awful things during his lifetime. From child neglect, when Jane was in gradeschool and always so angry, to purposefully harming the lives of those he tried to guide through the byzantine systems of assistance back on Earth, to even worse accusations by people seemingly much angrier than Anhelia, like when Krakina called him a Wizard. At the time, Erick didn’t truly recognize that insult for what it was, but now, he knew that Krakina had called him one of the worst things one can call another, on Veird. 

When people got angry that they didn’t get what they wanted, and needed, they lashed out at whoever was nearby. It was a truth as universal here as it was on Earth. With that in mind, was Anhelia lashing out, right now? Or was she genuinely testing Erick on his loyalty to the cause? Erick would have thought an 800 year old person would be beyond a primal, emotional response.

So? Was this a test of some sort?

Erick soothed his anger down, down, down. He breathed. He breathed again. He looked her straight in the eyes, and sent, ‘No. I want to kill them all.’